Invisible
by cupcakeriot
Summary: A dream walker becomes stuck in her astral body - and the only person who can see her is the last person she wants to speak to, though she is drawn to him for reasons she can't quite explain. OOC. M for a reason - violence, sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight**

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**Chapter One**

"Shit." The gasped word clashes harshly with the stark silence, a low feminine voice breaking through darkness.

Bella shakes in the solitary quiet of her room, cold sweat dripping between her shoulder blades as she again becomes accustomed to her body. Hair sticks to her pale skin, choppy chin-length strands plastered against her face as she futilely tries to push them away. The temperature of the basement bedroom does her no favors; the walls are hardly insulated, simply concrete covered cinderblocks, and the floor is unforgiving, water-stained from flash floods, covered in seemingly random piles of clothing and books. Her bed is little more than a mattress on the floor with a few tattered blankets thrown over the worn sheets.

She presses her fingers against her eyes, forcing her breathing to regulate, trying to wash away the images from her retinas. Despite her efforts, the last nightmare is still stained across her mindscape and she had the distinct, stomach-sinking feeling that she would have to address the subject of her late-night haunts in the morning. It was unfortunate that her interference was required during school hours, as school was the only peace Bella found in her daily life, but for the safety of others, she _had_ to act on her premonitions.

Toffee colored eyes dart to the high rectangular window situated above her bed, early dawn light breaking through the perpetual grey clouds, casting a dull blue-white light through the glass. For a moment, Bella appreciates that she slept an hour more than usual.

_Of course_, she thinks with a bitter snort. _What is usual? Normal?_

Some families had blond hair or blue eyes; Bella's entire family had _dreams_, a trait that had been passed down through the generations, a trait that somehow combined the future, the past, the present and the dreams of a seer. Her older brother, Riley, dreamt of the past – it was a point of pride that he knew _exactly_ who murdered JFK – and her twin sister, Bree, had frequent frivolous dreams of day-to-day life.

Bella was not as lucky as her siblings, in many ways.

Sometimes, she wondered if maybe it was because of the way she had come into the world that directed her disturbing nightmares of murders and suicides. Perhaps, because of the fact that Bella's life ended her mother's, she was indebted to the more violent side of human nature. Once, when she was very young and had just moved into the basement, she wondered if her mother _knew_ what Bella would have to cope with – the blood, the screams, the gunshots, or the horrifying gore.

Her nightmares, though, were not the worst of her issues; unlike her siblings, who simply wandered through their dreamscapes, Bella seemed to be involuntarily compelled to drift into an astral form. It wasn't that she simply watched the nightmares – she was part of them, a third-person witness to the horrible fantasies of people she knew. There didn't seem to be any way for Bella to resist the draw of astral projection and, as such, she took the term _dream walker_ to a whole new level. Her nightly excursions into the nightmares of her neighbors made her basement bedroom a necessity – so people would not hear her screams – and her involuntary astral form made her sleep less than restful. Most nights, she woke up after only a few hours of sleep and then forced herself to stay awake with the use of the old coffee maker plugged into the wall in her room.

On any other normal night – or what constituted for normal in Bella's world – she would have woken earlier, sequestered in her room with several cups of strong black coffee and a crossword. As it was, since she _had_ woken later than normal, she did not have the luxury of the bitter black drink or the smear of her blue pen; there was breakfast to cook, lest she upset the one parent she had.

With a heavy sigh that was startlingly loud in the bleakness of her frigid room, she places her feet on the frozen floor, blindly kicking her way through a pile of clothes until the familiar feel of denim brushed against her toes. Dressing in the dark, she pulls on dark jeans so torn up they hardly qualified as pants and a vintage grey shirt she found in a thrift store. Bella had never put much stock into what she looked like or what she wore – she simply didn't have the time between the nightmares, her job and her various forms of housework. Besides, she never got satisfaction from fashion that Bree does – she could care less about nail polish and hair curlers or what shade of blush looked best against her complexion.

As if proving her own idle thoughts, one of Bella's hands reaches up to ruffle her choppy bob, not particularly caring that her bed-head did not tame. She was perfectly content to let her girly, popular twin have the looks – and again, when would Bella find the time to care?

Bella glances at the window, cursing under her breath when she notices that the sun seemed to be rising _much_ quicker today; with practiced steps, she scales the creaking wooden stairs the lead up to the basement door, expertly avoiding the loudest areas. The kitchen, as always, is empty this early in the morning but Bella isn't fooled – the sound of the shower from upstairs prompts her to hurry. Twenty minutes later, Bella is setting out a small breakfast feast, pouring coffee for her father and hurriedly stirring in his cream and sugar as the heavy thump of feet settle on the first floor.

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**A/N: So, _Hallelujah_ is going to be my main focus but I started writing this during my mom's surgery and it kind of bloomed, especially since I've had a little bit of writer's block.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can;****'****t own Twilight.**

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**Chapter Two**

A sigh of relief escapes her mouth when Riley steps through the kitchen. A year older, Riley had a mirthful personality to match the sly curve of his lips, an expression that never seemed to fade regardless of his emotions; he was very good at compartmentalizing, blocking out memories that didn't appeal to his morals. He shared Bella's – and his mother's - mocha shade of hair but took on the icy blue eyes of his father.

"Hey, sis," he greets, yawning widely, scrubbing his fist over his eye as he sits at the sunshine yellow table. The kitchen of the house was such a polar opposite to the downright _homey_ feel of the rest of the modest home – brightly colored backsplash, cringe-worthy vinyl floor tiles and shocking orange cabinets.

Bella nods at him, turning quickly to the sink in the hopes that she could clean up the mess from her cooking before her father ventured downstairs – and knowing that her effort was in vain. Still, she scrubbed, only pausing once when Bree entered the kitchen breezily, happily reaching for a piece of bacon.

She took a moment to appreciate her twin's girly style and the way she took the time to tie a single baby pink ribbon onto her high ponytail, her hair so long and smooth that it flowed right past her shoulder blades. Unlike Bella, Bree's hair was much darker, her eyes were an exact match to Riley's, and Bree had a light tan that suited her cheery demeanor.

Bree moves to the refrigerator as Bella turns back to the soapy dishes, scrubbing with renewed vigor. "Did you eat?"

Riley pauses chewing as he hears Bree's question, his eyes critically looking over his younger sisters; one who was vibrant, healthy and happy, the other who was much darker, more monotone and decidedly _too_ thin. He frowns, swallowing. "Did you?" he asks, echoing Bree when it becomes clear that Bella has no intention of answering.

Feeling the heavy weight of their eyes on her back, Bella shakes her head reluctantly. "No time."

Before either of her siblings can respond, a deep voice interjects. "Get up late?" Charlie grunts, his chair screeching against the tile as he pulls it out, though he does not sit down.

Bree steps away from Bella's frozen form, not liking the cold eyes on her twin but knowing, after seventeen years, there was nothing she or Riley could do about what was coming next.

"Sorry, sir," Bella answers quietly.

Charlie grunts again, his heavy boots clunking against the floor as he steps closer to the youngest twin. "Lazy bitch," he mutters, peering into the sink. "And look at all this fucking filth!"

Riley grits his teeth when his father's harsh hands bite into a pale upper arm, roughly pulling Bella away from the sink, soapy water splashing against the floor. His stomach churns when Bella doesn't flinch – he knows she's too used to this kind of treatment.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't Bella's fault that their mother chose her baby's life over her own – not even the doctors could have predicted the complication of the twins' birth.

It wasn't Bella's fault that she completely took after their mother, almost a carbon copy of the late woman.

And it certainly wasn't fair that Bella and Bree were treated so differently – one like a princess and one like an outcast. Riley wanted nothing more than to change it, to bring equality into the house before he went away to college next semester – a large part of him worried about what might happen to Bella if he ever left, as if Charlie might be holding back because there was another male in the house.

But he had never been built as strongly as his father had and he knew that he could never take on that particular brawn.

Charlie jerks Bella's arm again, pulling against the socket, holding her still as his boot connects with her shin. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Bella keeps her eyes to the floor, as she's supposed to, her mind angry and bitter. "Sorry, sir," she apologizes again, no inflection discernable in her voice.

A sharp slapping sound rips through the tense air of the kitchen; Bree's gasp immediately following as bright red blooms on her sister's face, Riley's knuckles becoming white from clenching his fists so hard.

The brief splash of pain is nothing compared to the sharp sting against the side of Bella's head when Charlie shoves her down, her skull connecting with the blinding orange cabinets.

"Clean up this mess," Charlie orders, gesturing to the soapy water on the floor. He turns on his heel and sinks into his chair, greedily piling his plate with food and tucking into his meal.

Bella sits still for a moment before forcing her body to move, dizzy but holding her movements stiffly, being incredibly precise and she cleans up the water and moves back to the dishes. When Charlie is done eating, he pushes away from the table, kisses Bree's forehead, claps Riley's back and, after gathering his holster, leaves the house. None of the siblings dare speak until the crunching of gravel under tires fades.

Bree, of course, is the first to react – despite the way they were raised and the fact that Charlie actively encouraged Bree to look down at her young twin, she loved Bella and it disturbed her heart to witness mornings like this. "Are you okay?"

Bella forces herself to nod, her hands grasping the edge of the counter – she didn't want to show weakness, even though the pain on the side of her head was pulsing. "I'm fine. Give me those plates, we're going to be late to school."

Bree quickly gathers the dishes as Riley meticulously cleans up the table. "Maybe you should skip work today," Riley suggests.

Bella snorts bitterly. "Right, Riley. Like I can do that," she replies, her tone completely detached except for the sardonic edge.

Wistfully, his mind transports him to a time when Bella was _happy_ – it was right before their aunt moved away, right before Charlie became their sole caregiver. She played with Bree, blowing bubbles in the summer sunshine; it hurt his chest acutely that the innocence of Bella's childhood was lost before she was four and the abuse started. Sometimes, with the way Charlie looked at Bella, he had to wonder if there was more than hitting and verbal attacks involved in his father's terror – everyday, Bella grew to look more and more like their mother and Charlie's eyes were slowly changing.

It made Riley absolutely sick but he couldn't ask – couldn't find the courage to even suggest – that Charlie might lay his hands on his daughter in another, more vile way. He prayed every night that it would never happen.

Bree is quiet, though upset, as she volunteers to get Bella's ratty book bag from the basement. She shivers when her bare feet come into contact with the concrete floor, her eyes taking in the meager accommodations Bella had made for herself – with a feeling of disgust, she recalled the summer she and Bella turned twelve and her twin finally moved the lumpy twin mattress into the basement, the bed bought with Bella's hard earned money while Bree was gifted a new queen sized bed for no reason. Up until that summer, Bella had slept on a few blankets and a sleeping bag from Riley's Boy Scout gear that she habitually rolled up every morning, afraid to be caught borrowing it. Bree thought of her own room, the lavish girly space she'd had since she was four, while her twin was moved into this dingy basement, and her stomach lurched painfully. Locating Bella's beat up bag, which desperately needed stitching, she frowned – everything that Bella had, she had bought with her own money while Bree didn't have to – and was not allowed to - work at all and it _was not right_.

To top it all off, Bella's suffering wasn't restrained to her waking life; no, she was burdened with the horrifying nightmares that had plagued her since birth, too.

By the time Bree makes it back upstairs, Riley and Bella are standing by the door, ready to head out. Bella's cheek is bright red and swollen from where Charlie had backhanded her.

Bree holds back her tears – she knew Bella hated pity.

The three siblings squeeze into the cab of an older red Chevy pickup, the engine rumbling away towards their high school. Bella is the first to exit, quickly distancing herself from her siblings, her head low as she walks away, and ignoring Bree's call. Bella desperately didn't want to stick around to see her siblings swarmed by their friends – friends Bella did _not_ have – and in her haste, she failed to avoid the broad chest she ran directly into.

_Damn. Just what I need_, she scowls, attempting to sidestep the familiar boy she walked into – only he halts her with his hand around her thin bicep, right where Charlie had bruised her earlier. With a hiss, she jerks her arm away, glaring up at her bother's best friend.

Edward – impossibly tall, all lean muscles, sharp grey eyes, and a mess of rust colored hair. She'd known of him since he moved to the small western Washington town, known about the rumors of his prestigious parentage and known about the proof of his complete asshole personality. Unfortunately, she'd been _blessed_ to be in close contact with him due to his and Riley's close friendship.

"Watch where you're going," he growls, looming over her slight height in a way that sent Bella's blood pulsing in fear – it was too much like Charlie.

She looks away, dropping her glare, spotting the scabbed over knuckles of his hands. It wasn't any secret that Edward got into plenty of fights outside of the wrestling team – he was the tiny school's rebel and Bella wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Instead of responding, she simply steps past him, keeping her head down, hoping her short hair will hide the red mark on her cheek.

Edward rolls his eyes, muttering about stupid girls under his breath. He nods his head to Riley in greeting. "The fuck is wrong with your sister?"

To his surprise, Riley's blue eyes flash dangerously. "Shut up," he says in warning.

Edward cocks his brow, shaking his head. "Whatever. She's a bitch."

"I'll break your face."

"Not before I break yours," Edward replies.

Riley sighs, already tired of the day, and carefully follows Bella's path into the school with his eyes, frowning at how much of a berth people give his sister. Bree notices and sighs dejectedly, tuning out the prattle of her friends – she had a bad feeling about today and she _knew_ it had something to do with Bella.

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**A/N: Thoughts? Concerns. Hang in there.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

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**Chapter Three**

Bella already knew that, by the end of the day, she would be in a load of trouble, so she had no qualms about skipping gym. The nightmare she'd walked through last night indicated that she had something very important to do during Biology – her next class – and she'd taken the liberty of relaxing underneath the bleachers with a crossword puzzle before she had to prevent a tragedy. In some sort of twisted logic, she figured she owed it to herself.

And besides, she'd never skipped class before.

She steadily filled in the boxes of her crossword, finally reaching the end of the thick book of puzzles by the time the bell rang. With a heavy sigh and a resigned expression, she stashed her favorite pastime and slinked through the hallways of the school, coming across her Biology classroom far too quickly. Out of all the nightmares she'd ever had, this was the most intense, probably because it required her direct involvement.

She stopped in front of the open doorway, nerves balled tightly in the pit of her stomach – she _really_ didn't want to do this.

But it wasn't only her life on the line.

She sighs again because _consequences are damned_ and steps forward, a small movement that is not quick enough for the asshole that came up behind her.

"Go in, don't go in, I don't give a fuck," Edward says lowly. "But get out of my way."

Bella bristles, the hair on the back of her neck standing to attention as her eyes narrow in his direction. She approaches Mr. Banner, a divorced drunken _fool_ too close to retirement, with an air of false confidence.

_I hope I can pull this off_.

"Mr. Banner," she says, standing beside his cluttered desk. "Can I talk to you about my grade?" _Please don't pull the gun out of your desk drawer. _

Cloudy eyes blink up at her. "Your grade?"

Bella winces. "Yes, I'm failing this class and-"

Mr. Banner scoffs, standing too quickly, his balance not stable. "All you _children_," he sneers. "All you care about is grades. I gave up my marriage," he says louder, his words slurred, calling the attention of the class towards the front of the room. "I gave up my _marriage_ for you stupid children!"

Bella takes a nervous step back; having reached her limit of twisted males for the day, but holds her ground, knowing that this is exactly how the nightmare was supposed to go. Though her hands are shaking visibly and all she wants to do is duck for cover because Banner is reaching for the top drawer of his desk, she stays because, worst-case scenario, it would be better for her life to end in the crossfire than another student's.

She swallows. "Mr. Banner, maybe you should take a step outside and calm down-"

"No!" he roars, making Bella flinch back; the rest of the Biology class looks on with incredulous expressions. "No, I will not calm down! I don't have to!"

Bella starts to shake – this was too familiar and she was losing her grip on what she was supposed to do. Desperately, she tries to recall her nightmare, losing time and freezing when Banner reaches for his top drawer.

And then, a part of her mind engages her body without her permission, and she is moving, dropping her bag and lunging forward at the same time Banner pulls out the handgun. She forces his arm up, her ears ringing when the gun goes off, the bullet imbedding itself in the ceiling. A few girls let out a startled scream and Banner freezes, as if he can't believe that he actually pulled a gun out in a classroom full of students.

Bella's wide eyes close for a moment – _nobody was hurt_.

But she hadn't accounted for Banner's aggression as he pushes Bella into the blackboard, the gun scuttling across the floor as her teacher loses his grip.

And she hadn't accounted for Edward's quick reaction – he moves with speed, engaging Banner in a complicated wresting move while the rest of the class reacts, some girls crying, some boys running out of the room to call for help.

Bella's eyes connect with Edward's, toffee meeting steel. She can see the astonishment on his face and knows he can see the bold shuddering of her entire body quaking with fear and adrenalin. Their exchange is cut short by a few teachers and one security cop storming into the room, pausing at the scene before them; a shaking girl, the star of the wrestling team with a teacher in a headlock and a gun resting on the floor.

Later, after Banner had been carted away by the Chief of Police – who happened to be Bella's absolutely livid father – and after the entire school had been evacuated to the parking lot, Edward and Bella found themselves standing before a very confused principal and school counselor. Of course, with a school as small as this,_ everyone_ knew about the nasty divorce Mr. Banner had just gone through; the _cause_ for the events was not confusing, rather it was the direct student involvement, of which could not be explained, that was confounding the authorities of the school. Both the principal and the counselor had spoken with the students of the Biology class and all had insisted that something wasn't _right_ with how Bella approached the visibly agitated teacher _before_ the gun was even pulled out.

And the student in question, Bella, stubbornly maintained that she had no idea Banner was packing heat in his classroom.

Silently, Edward agreed that there was something going on with this situation that didn't fit – after all, what were the odds that the outcast of the school would approach a teacher on the day he would fly off the handle?

Edward wasn't by an means a believer in the supernatural or coincidences and this was quite obviously _no coincidence_.

Yet his best friend's little sister kept her lips shut – and kept her distance from _him_, which pissed him off more than anything under these circumstances did. Hadn't Edward saved her? He had – he was there, he _remembers_ helping her, probably saving her life from the lunatic with a gun. And she didn't show any appreciation; if anything, she looked almost _afraid _of him, which was ridiculous.

_Sure_, he conceded, studying the careless waves of her short hair out of the corner of his eye. _I can be a bit harsh and I was a dick this morning for no reason, but she's acting like I'm going to maim her or something. Her sister doesn't act like that so what the fuck is this chick's problem_?

Of course, from what Edward had seen, Bella was nothing like little Bree, who was the epitome of _girly_, which was annoying to Edward – he couldn't stand high maintenance. If he had to choose, Edward would easily go for Bella, who seemed to be quiet and didn't even need disgusting face paint to look attractive.

In fact, as Edward carelessly studies Bella's profile, his height over her giving him a great view of how long her eyelashes are, he wonders _why_ he hasn't attempted to pursue her; it had nothing to do with his friendship with Riley, who he was sure wouldn't care that much. By all accounts, Bella appeared to be tough enough to deal with him, though she still seemed shaken by her encounter with Banner earlier.

Setting his jaw, Edward makes a snap decision to try for her affections. As the principal and school counselor walk away, Edward steps closer to Bella, opening his mouth to ask her out – only to be cut off by a familiar voice.

"Bella," The Chief of Police snaps. "Get over here. We're going home."

Edward frowns slightly, watching Bella walk away and duck into the police cruiser beside her brother and sister. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.

The ride home is silent – and so tense that Bella is scared to breathe. Due to the incident she was involved in, school was released early for the day; with careful eyes, Bella studies the tightness of Charlie's grip on the steering wheel, knowing that _home_ was about to become a very dangerous place.

Bella pulls her hand from Bree's when the car jerks to a stop and Charlie stomps around to her door, pulling her out by her hair and forcing Bella to walk ahead of him into the house. They make it to the kitchen before Charlie starts the beating, his rage so volatile that it clouds his eyes.

Never before had his hits been so harsh.

Bella found comfort in the cold tile of the floor as boots cracked against her skull, her ribs, her back; she closed her eyes when the fist hit her nose, loosened a tooth. She tuned out the cries of her twin and the shouts of Riley, both of whom eventually quieted when Charlie's tirade stopped.

Dizzy, sick with pain and finding it hard to breathe, Bella blinks open her eyes, assaulted with three Charlie's glaring down at her.

"Why the fuck would you put yourself in danger, Renee?"

Somewhere in her mind, Bella wonders why he called her _that_ name – her mother's name.

Charlie grabs her short hair, lifting her head from the tile and slamming it down resolutely; Bella's eyes shut as blackness rushes in.

Bree bites her lips as she watches her father wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, kicking a listless leg before turning away to the refrigerator and grabbing a six-pack of beer.

"Clean her up," he orders nobody in particular. "Get her out of my sight."

Once Charlie is gone from the kitchen and the creaking of his recliner is accompanied by Sports Center, Bree rushes forward, kneeling beside her twin with tears leaking from her eyes. Her unblemished hands press against her twin's cheek, her eyes riveted on the unsteady rise and fall of Bella's chest.

Riley kneels beside her, carefully reaching underneath his sister's prone body and lifting her from the blood spattered floor – he was absolutely sick to his stomach and filled with _hate_ for Charlie. "Bree," he says softly, calling her attention. "Go get the first aid kit and bring it down to the basement."

"Shouldn't we call someone? An ambulance?"

Riley's eyes flit in the direction of the living room as he frowns, shaking his head reluctantly. "We can't. He has too much power…And I don't think I'd be able to fight him off, especially drunk."

"But Riley-"

"Bree," he stops her. "First aid kit."

Bree wipes at her cheeks. "Fine. Fine, I'll meet you down there."

For the second time that day, Bree finds herself in her sister's dim room; this time, she is carefully cleaning the blood and cuts from her sister's rapidly bruising and swelling flesh, using warm water and the softest rag she could find. Once she is done, with Riley's help, they change Bella out of her too-loose clothing and into something more comfortable to sleep in. Bree disinfects and dresses the numerous wounds while Riley tightly wraps his sister's ribs.

The entire time, Bella does not move or cry out; her eyes do not roll beneath her lids; her breath does not stutter from its too-slow rhythm.

With the utmost care, Bree fluff's Bella's pillow and covers her sister with as many blankets as she can find, exchanging a heavy, guilty look with Riley. "She saved people today, you know?"

Riley nods – stoic, angry, silent.

There is nothing left for them to do except clean up the kitchen and avoid Charlie.

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**A/N: Got to love an asshole Charlie, right? Not really.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

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**Chapter Four **

Something was _wrong_.

Since Bella could remember, she had perfect control over her astral form, aside from the fact that it was involuntary upon slumber; she never had any issues getting back _inside_ of her body.

Until now, that is.

Bella looked on as her body was carried downstairs, her brother and sister changing and cleaning her up – it was very much an out-of-body experience. She half expected Riley and Bree to just look up and _see_ her standing at the foot of her own bed, not three inches from her own blankets, but they didn't, even when they looked in her direction.

She was invisible.

There was a brief thought that _maybe_ she was dead – but then, her astral form was very familiar and, while she was usually never in the _real_ world, she had a feeling that she would be able to touch some objects, move them and communicate with someone, just like she could when she was dream walking.

Bella waited until her siblings left, deciding that if she couldn't _will_ herself into her own body – like she normally does – then she would try a more direct approach, namely attempting to literally lay on herself in the hopes that she would _seep_ in. When that didn't work, Bella decided that sticking around her body was doing her no good; if she couldn't get _in_, then she had to do something.

And, really, she didn't want to linger. Her body looked horribly beaten and _that_ was depressing.

As she moved towards the stairs, she was pleased to find out that her astral form did possess some about of weight in the real world, the proof given through the tiny creak of the stairs. A tiny moment of self-consciousness sneaks through her mind and she looks down at her attire; a overly large black vintage sweater with white stars scattered randomly across the worn fabric and a rather small pair of black yoga shorts that were almost covered entirely by the sweater. If she hadn't seen Bree dressing her, she would have instantly known who picked out her current attire – it was one of Bree's most preached Rules of Fashion, "_Show skin on either your top half or your bottom half for optimal sexiness. Too much skin equals a slut_".

Coming to the closed basement door, Bella pauses; in dreams, she could pass through objects and she doubted that here, in reality where she seemed to have slight weight, she would be able to do the same. But she had to try because she refused to be stuck in the _basement_ for who knows who long, even if it was her room and was stocked with crosswords. To her immense relief, Bella was able to pass through the door with no resistance when her hand failed to grasp the door handle.

Just like when she was dream walking, there was a limit to what she could grasp; she could pass through anything she wanted to, but only the objects that were not connected directly to the nightmare or the subject of the nightmare were the objects she could move. She reasoned that by being able to open the door, she would be alerting someone to her presence – someone who could not know that she was in her astral form.

Bella did not intend to actually stay in her home, mostly because she didn't particularly want to run into Charlie. That left the question as to _where_ she would go, as she had never bothered to make friends in this town.

Oddly, the first person that came to mind was _Edward_, maybe because he had been so involved in her life earlier in the day.

He'd been rude, he'd saved her and right before Charlie ordered her to the car, he seemed to have a shift in demeanor that he didn't get the chance to express. It made Bella curious.

_Now, the question is where to find him_, she thinks as she passes through the front door, pleased that the pouring rain and cold wind from earlier had no effect on her astral body. She'd been lucky enough to leave the house without seeing any of her family.

Riley had mentioned, in passing, that Edward lived alone on the far side of town in a house rented by his father; for a while, when Edward first moved to the sleepy town, this information was a source of excitement due to the potential of parties. To Bella's knowledge, no such parties had ever been hosted, but the mere _possibility_ was enough to keep students excited.

Bella knew there were only a handful of homes on the far side of town, newer homes farther from the high way, closer to the forest – she figured that, with her ambivalence to the weather, she could afford to wander around until she found him.

Naturally, that's exactly what she did.

Bella's astral body was an interesting thing – a part of being with a specific set of limitations that Bella had mastered very early on in life. Though she was not familiar with her astral form in the real world, she still maintained her belief that anything she could do while dream walking, she could do _now_. With a brief blink of her eyes, Bella sent her astral body to the far side of town; it was almost like jumping dreams, just a bit more specific.

All she could do now was to wait and wonder why _Edward the Asshole_ was the person she had intentions of seeking. There didn't seem to be any particular _reason_ – just a feeling in her gut that drew her in his direction, a sense in her mind that nudged her towards him.

Stuck in her astral form, she had no reason for denying what her most base instincts requested. After all, it wasn't like she could do anything else.

Materializing on a random street on the far side, she stands in the rain, silently marveling at how the rain seemed to both _avoid_ her body and pass through it. Her feet were bare and made tiny impressions on the puddles she stood in, but she could not kick the water, make a splash, or feel the cold that would normally seep into her toes. For a few moments, she explored the odd sensation of being in the rain without getting wet and found herself smiling – normally, her astral form when dream walking denied her this experience.

Bella drifted through the streets of the far side, the homes in the middle of construction, until she came across one street with a lone house at the end. For whatever reason, _this_ house called to her more than the few others had; during the blue-grey light of day, even smothered by icy rain, the home felt familiar, painted a deep green with white trim, one garage, a plain mail box. It wasn't anything interesting to look at but Bella felt that if she could just _stop_ and stare at the home, some of her questions, even the ones unasked, could be answered.

It wasn't long until a silver car that was far too familiar drove down the street, towards the house Bella was standing in front of. Slowly, the car pulled into the driveway, the engine shutting off quickly, leaving only the pitter-patter sound of rain on concrete. Almost cautiously, the car door opens, the bottom of his jeans almost immediately soaked by the onslaught of rain.

Edward's steel grey eyes are wide, his jaw tense, his hair falling over his forehead, plastered to his face as the rain coats his body. "What the fu-_Bella?_"

A small part of her is pleased he knows her name – she didn't have any idea, really, that he paid attention. She assumed that Edward, like the rest of their class, simply didn't bother to remember who Bella was, only that she was the weird girl related to the pretty cheerleader. A wave of satisfaction rolls over her shoulders, which she ruthlessly pushes away because she _doesn't _care that he knows her name – that would be stupid.

As for the rest of her, Bella is downright _shocked_ that Edward can even _see_ her – so she doesn't say anything as her eyes widen. She stares back at Edward, trying to comprehend how he can see her astral form when her siblings didn't even detect her presence.

That…wasn't expected.

Edward slams the car door, hastily approaching the girl standing in his driveway, his heart pounding in his chest because she looked positively _ethereal_, standing in nothing but a sweater and shorts…her short hair unmoved by the wind…her _dry_ hair.

His own hand moves to his scalp, pushing against wet strands, his brows furrowing.

_That doesn't make any sense_.

Bella is staring back at him, her expression something akin to _shock_, which also doesn't seem logical – Edward doesn't understand.

Why is she in his driveway?

Why is she dry?

Why is the rain bouncing off her?

Why…does she look alarmed that he can _see_ her?

His stomach sinks quickly, meeting his feet, making his head light as he takes a step closer. "What are you doing here?"

Edward watches as Bella shrugs, the movement of her shoulders not even grazing the ends of her wild hair. He thinks, in that brief moment, that she might possibly be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Why hadn't he noticed before?

It was almost as if the events from Biology had completely and viscerally altered his entire perception of the quiet girl – he suddenly noticed who she was, what she looked like, what she could potentially mean to him. Edward was almost uncomfortable with these seemingly random thoughts, but he couldn't stop himself from wondering how soft her skin was or if her hands were really as tiny as they appeared. He realized a little belatedly that he admired her, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the day's events or if it was something he hadn't consciously realized.

"I don't know," she finally answers, her brows furrowing as her crosses her arms.

Edward nods, because at this point, what _did _make sense?

He again notices the way the world seems to interact around her body – the wind that pushes against his own clothes doesn't have an effect on her sweater, she doesn't shiver from the chilled rain and she doesn't seem to notice that she's standing in a large puddle.

A chilling through crosses his mind and he blurts it out – a little upset, a lot shaken.

"Are you _dead?_"

* * *

**A/N: Completely blown away by the response to this story – I mean, I post last night and when I check my email today, literally 126 messages in my inbox, telling me that people are following, favoring and reviewing. I was flabbergasted!**

**Shout out to the first ten reviews of the last (3) chapter(s):**

**Theoddwallflower – I think you really nailed Riley's characterization; he knows what's happening is wrong but he also recognizes that he can't take on Charlie by himself. Smartish and wimpyish. Got it.**

**Twivampchick – That's a really nice way of saying Charlie's a nutjob lol**

**Dinotopian – Stick with it! I promise it gets better! In fact, I'm 90% certain that the last chapter was the last Bella-beating one; any other violence will be Edward losing his shit or Charlie getting the beat down.**

**celia azul – I think, if possible, Bella would stay in the astral plane by choice!**

**Lilypad10 – Glad you like it!**

**boo1414 – Bella is invisible in more ways that one and unfortunately, that goes for a lot of abused kids.**

**Kgunter34 – I don't really like writing the angst, but I like this so far!**

**Jasper's Wifey xoxo – Ah, the awesome Ed/Bella development. More to come!**

**Dipsydoodle – Sometimes, we can't really explain why people who observe abuse don't take action; sometimes, it just is. These are teenagers, they can't be perfect, sadly!**

**LunaDiSangue85 – Yeah, Bella's been dealt a really bad hand . I'm evil!**

**bbe4evr – Glad you're loving it!**

**Super special shout out to the first review of the last (3) chapter(s) – Savannavansmutsmut – Due to the amazing response, I got another chapter out ASAP.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"No!" Bella says immediately, a little offended that someone would think she was _dead_ – even if it was closer to the truth than was comfortable. After all, wasn't she laying unconscious in her basement with no way of getting _back_ into her body? That was as close to dead as she could possibly get and she had the sinking feeling that she was in a coma – which was, of course, unsettling.

But, still, the fact was that she _is_ living…just not conventionally.

Her offense might have been caused by the fact that _she_ hadn't exactly come to terms with her current situation.

Or the fact that Edward's eyes had very briefly devoured her body – _and_ the fact that he could see her when nobody else could.

As it was - since there was nothing she could do about it right now because Edward _could_ see her and she _wasn't_ dead – Bella felt her offense was well deserved. Besides, confirmed by a quick glance at her body, she _looked_ just fine compared to the body that lay in the basement; not a single contusion or blood speckle, just perfectly pale skin, as apparently her injuries hadn't transferred to her astral body.

"I'm not dead," she says, her voice resolute, drawing Edward's attention away from her legs and the span of pale skin untouched by rain.

He frowns, shaking his head slightly, feeling his body relax – since he'd seen her in his driveway, his heart had been hammering and his entire body felt _tense_. Convinced that she _wasn't_ dead, though he had yet to receive an explanation for her presence at his house, he could feel his emotions level out.

Edward was very aware of the reputation he had at school; he was a "rebel" just because he didn't like people talking to him for no reason; he was lusted after; he was unattainable. Edward wasn't sure how much of that was true, though, because in the comfort of his own home, he was really kind of lazy and bored a lot of the time – the fights he found himself in were mostly for entertainment, even with his quick temper. Maybe the only truth about his reputation was the general aloofness he displayed.

His frown deepens as he turns away from Bella and grabs his backpack from his car – Edward didn't know why she was here but he did know that she would be disturbing his _peace_, which was something he wasn't sure he was ready to give up, even for a very attractive girl. When he passes her on the driveway, he keeps his gaze forward, suddenly uncomfortable with the way part of his mind was _lusting_ after his best friend's sister – wasn't there some sort of code about that kind of thing, anyway?

He looks back at Bella when he unlocks the door of his empty house, his brows furrowed.

She wasn't affected by the rain but he would still feel…_bad_ if she was left outside. With a resigned sigh, he lets his eyes catch hers, steel and toffee clashing for the third time that day.

"You coming?"

Bella starts, a quick flinch of her limbs, as he addresses her directly. Her mouth twists into a subtle frown, her arms crossing over her chest.

Edward was inviting her inside.

When she had the idea to come here, she should have thought it out better – there were so many variables that she didn't account for, like Edward being able to see her. She didn't even consider the possibility of him inviting her into his home and now, faced with the invitation, she wasn't sure how to respond.

Edward was Riley's friend, not _hers_.

It was wrong of her to be at his home – she didn't even fully understand _why_ she had thought to do so in the first place.

She should leave.

She should turn around and go back to her house, try to get into her body again or figure out why she was stuck in her astral form.

Tilting her head down, Bella sighs. _Yes, those are things she should do_.

But instead of following her better judgment, Bella follows the distinct pull in her gut, prompting her feet to move soundlessly forward.

For some reason, Bella felt like she _had_ to be near Edward; maybe it was the latent ability of her dream walking, the premonitions manifesting in a different way now that she was in her astral body. And it wasn't even a strange consideration because, when she was dream walking, she relied on the same sense to tell her what to do or what to look at or what she should be paying attention to; now that she was indefinitely stuck like this with _Edward_ being the only person to communicate with thus far, it was only logical for her to use that same subtle ability.

So lost in her thoughts, she missed the slight expression of relief of Edward's face as Bella steps under the cover of the porch – for a second, he had feared she would turn down his invitation, though he couldn't imagine why it would affect him so much. Aside from the obvious fact that she was Riley's sister, Edward had never paid Bella that much attention; it wasn't that she was _forgettable_, it was more like she was above all the drama of high school; she was unflappable and he liked that in a vague way.

Maybe his eyes had been opened up by her courageous – if not bizarre – acts of the day or maybe it was just the fact that _today_ he noticed how many flecks of gold and silver were in her toffee colored eyes. In principle, Edward wasn't one to question everything; he took what life gave him and made the most out of it.

Today, life gave him _Bella_.

There was no reason why he should ignore that kind of offering; Edward was no fool.

Violent, maybe. Aloof, definitely. Foolish? Not so much.

Oddly, both teenagers are quiet as they step into the house, Edward reaching over to flick on the lights, bathing the small entry and the living room with yellowish light.

Bella is impressed with how _clean_ his home is, especially for a teenager that lives alone. Sure, his black leather couch had stray articles of clothing and a gaming control on it and his floors could use a good sweeping, but Edward's house wasn't filthy. It was new and sparse – simple, with the barest of necessities. From what she could tell, the impressive television was the most extravagant thing in the home and she would bet anything that his freezer held at least three frozen pizzas, probably the same brand Riley liked to buy on the rare weekends that Charlie was called away. The walls were painted a noncommittal taupe, the hardwood floors a pleasant medium tone, and the set of built-in bookshelves filled with various video games, music and…comic books.

Almost as if Edward is following her gaze, the tips of his ears heat up and a surly frown crosses his face; he'd forgotten about the comic books and he wasn't used to being open to ridicule, though he doubted Bella would tease him for his rather extensive collection. He chances a glance in her direction, stunned to see the space next to him empty.

"Bella?"

Her head peeks around the corner, her expression almost bored. "What?"

Edward drops his back pack. "How did you move so fast?"

She hopes he doesn't notice the nervous tick of hers when she reaches up to twirl her short hair around a finger. "You're exceptionally unobservant?" Bella asks, hoping to evade his question.

It doesn't work; Edward throws her a dry look, rolls his eyes, and moves into the kitchen, where he preheats the oven and removes a frozen pizza from his freezer. The way the kitchen is designed gives Edward an unobstructed look into his living room, where Bella is examining his comic book collection with rapt enthusiasm, much to his discomfort.

And yet, despite the fact that she was in his home and the fact that he _probably_ wouldn't figure out why she sought him out, he didn't dislike her presence; he actually felt very comfortable around her, if he ignored the sight of her toned, pale legs.

Setting his dinner in the oven, he clears off the couch. "So, not dead?"

"What?" Bella asks, turning away from his chronologically ordered collection of Batman comics.

Edward's steel eyes clash with her own. "Not dead?"

Bella shakes her head. "Alive." _Kind of_.

Edward squints at her. _She looks real…_ "Are you sure you're not a ghost?"

"I think I would know," she tells him wryly, still standing in front of his bookshelf.

He nods, crossing his arms over his stomach, fingers tapping against his elbow. "Right. Okay. So, then, what are you doing_ here_?"

Bella shifts uncomfortably. She knew, of course, that she would eventually have to explain why she was there or, at the very least, some of the idiosyncrasies of her astral form, but she didn't know it would be so _soon_. She eyes Edward warily, noting his relaxed posture and the bland look on his face; to her, it seemed like he was asking just to fill the silence.

But what to tell him? Obviously, telling him about Charlie was out of the question – what could Edward do about that and why would he even care?

Telling him about the astral form was another option and really the _only_ thing she should consider telling him; better yet, divulging that particular information might explain some of her odd behavior from school earlier that day, which was a bonus. She knew people thought she was weird but she _did_ have a legitimate reason for it and, since Edward was asking, she had no reason to keep a secret.

Besides, on the off chance that she could never get into her body, _someone_ should be able to tell Riley and Bree what happened, especially since they couldn't see her themselves.

Bella nods, moving to sit on the opposite side of the couch, her legs folded underneath her bottom, unintentionally enticing Edward with a close-up examination of her skin.

She takes a deep breath, almost unwilling to believe what she was about to do. "I'm a dream walker. And I kind of got stuck outside of my body."

* * *

**A/N: Yay, got this chapter out too! Finals are this week but the plan is still to update at least **_**two**_** chapters!**

**Shout out to the first ten reviews of the last chapter –**

**Night script – Yep, all the "super angst" is pretty much over lol Thank God!**

**HarbouringLies – Thrilled that you love it!**

**Brittany86 – Bella might take that hug! Lol**

**Twilight Rocker 12 – LOL I do have a life next week!**

**LunaDiSangue85 – I've always thought the concept of dream walking would be cool! Lol Originally, the characters in Psionics were supposed to dream walk but…..that didn't happen .**

**DoubleFate – LOL I kind of need to focus on both since this ones darker…**

**Sassy Mami – I'm giving another! And, for the record, Edward is the only one who can mysteriously see her!**

**Sarah Amin – Yep, his background is a little dark/sad. There's a reason for everything!**

**Siobhan Whitlock – Sorry! I forget about the triggers so next time, I'll give a warning! My bad!**

**Super special shout out to the first review of the last chapter – james3142 – Oh Edward ;) He is a clever little badass!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Edward blinks twice – a quick movement that was almost unnoticeable but one that properly communicated his shock or disbelief. "Dream walker…?"

Bella's fingers move up to massage her temples. "Yes." She could already tell that this might be a _long_ explanation and, unfortunately for her, the astral form didn't experience tiredness; it was very possible that she could stay seated on the couch for endless hours without sleeping limbs or even a pang of hunger. She felt so disconnected from her body, much more disconnected than when she really _was_ dream walking.

"So, not dead?" Edward asks again.

Bella's eyes shoot up to his, narrowed. "_No_. I'm _not_ dead."

Edward frowns slightly. "Just making sure."

"My answer isn't going to change." _At least, I don't think it will_.

Edward leans forward, elbows on knees. "Dream walker," he repeats, casting another look towards Bella. Again, he notices how _real_ she seems but, then again, her weight isn't sinking the cushions of his couch. He almost can't process that distortion.

"Yes."

"How does _that_ work?"

Bella sighs, a hand reaching up to play with her hair, anxiety filtering through her system. _Now _would be the time to run away and forget about this whole thing – but the pull, the one her astral body recognized, was demanding she stay. At this point, it was beyond her to change what was happening; she could only go along for the ride and hope everything wouldn't fall apart on the way.

"It's something that runs in the family. Riley does it too," she tells him, leaning her head on the back of his couch. "He dreams in black and white, finds himself in major past events. He knows exactly how Lincoln was shot because he was sitting in the booth next to him."

"That's awesome," Edward smiles, and then gestures to Bella. "He does this…not-real-body thing, too?"

"No," Bella frowns. "No, that's just me. It's called an astral body, what you're seeing. Kind of like a projection screen at school, except that instead of projecting images, my mind projects _me_. Riley and Bree, they just _see_ themselves in dreams. I get to change things, I get to move freely because of my astral body. It's a lot more complicated."

Edward nods, his mind eagerly absorbing all of this information – his brain always worked a bit like a sponge, soaking up knowledge and facts to be easily recalled later. "Like lucid dreaming."

"Sort of," Bella nods, finding herself at ease around Edward, though that wasn't _completely_ odd.

It wasn't like Edward was a stranger – he and Riley hung out around the house all the time, almost every weekend. She didn't spend any time with him, of course, but she knew his favorite soda and how he liked his pizza and she'd always felt a little bit more safe when Edward was at her house. Of course, when company was over, Charlie wasn't home – there was never anyone outside of her family to see how her father treated her and she was under strict orders to make it seem like she and Bree shared a room when people were over.

Even if Edward was the most observant man in the world, he never would have known about her basement bedroom or any of the other things that happened at her home.

Her entire family was good at acting.

"So, this is your astral body?" Edward asks, breaking the silence Bella hadn't noticed. He eyes her legs again, making her shift self-consciously.

She nods, pushing aside the thought that Edward was taking this _really_ well; but, then again, Bella didn't think she'd ever seen Edward over-react. The only thing that phased him in the slightest was the fighting he was famous for and even then, she'd seen the anger drain right out of him after a fight was over, almost as if nothing had ever happened.

It would only make sense that news like this wouldn't cause a massive reaction.

"And for some reason you can't get back in your body?"

"Right," Bella answers, pushing hair behind her ears. "I'm stuck right now, in limbo."

Bella jumps slightly when the timer for Edward's pizza goes off; Edward stands, moving to the kitchen, quickly pulling the pizza out of the oven and sloppily cutting it up, sliding half onto a paper plate and grabbing a Pepsi from his refrigerator. He stops halfway to the living room, raising an inquisitive brow. "Uh, do you want a slice?"

Slowly, Bella shakes her head. "No. I don't feel hunger in this body."

"Isn't that kind of weird? I mean, you see pizza and you smell it, right? But you don't hunger for it."

Bella plays with a strand of hair again. "I don't know. It just doesn't work like that."

Edward nods, taking a disgustingly large bite of pizza; Bella wrinkles her nose a bit, knowing that both Riley and Edward had a horrible habit of eating like beasts. After he swallows, he looks at her with sharp eyes. "Why are you here? Why not go to Riley?"

Almost instantly, Bella stands, completely offended for reasons she can hardly identify. But she _is_ mad that he would ask that – _why are you here_?

Scowling, Bella wheels on Edward, who had dropped his pizza back on the plate in response to her quick movement. "Look, the _only_ reason I think you can see me is because you're supposed to help me in some way. Help me get unstuck or figure out what I'm supposed to do. _That's_ why I came here, not for any other reason. It's not like I _want_ to be here."

Edward scowls. "Calm down. I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how _did_ you mean it?"

He pushes a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to offend you, okay? It's just…you don't talk to anyone. You're this enigma, all quiet and glaring and always with your nose stuck in those crossword puzzles. I just can't figure out why you would choose _me_ of all people to go to."

Anger drains out of Bella instantly. "Oh," she says softly, stress apparent in her stiff movements as she collapses back on the couch.

Edward admires how flexible her frame is, her knees easily folding up to her chin, her arms around her legs.

Bella sighs. "Riley and Bree…can't see me."

Edward nods – it makes sense, to a certain extent. Her siblings can't see her, so she would have had to go to the next best option. "What about your dad?"

He notices the way her entire body stiffens, his brow furrowing. _What could cause that type of reaction?_

"Uh, he wasn't home," Bella says quickly. "Couldn't find him at the station, either. Must have been on a call."

Edward, thankfully, seems to accept her words as fact; meanwhile, Bella's entire mind is scrambling. _What if Charlie could see her, too? That would be just the thing to piss him off. He doesn't even know about the astral body._

She hadn't considered that scenario – Charlie never even crossed her mind and he should have. He should have been the first thing she thought of, but he wasn't.

_Edward_ was.

He seems to be thinking as he devours the pizza, white teeth ripping through crust and cheese. She admires the way his jaw flexes as he chews and wonders why she didn't notice before how _attractive_ that part of his body was, so strong and stubborn it could cut glass.

Edward swallows, looking at Bella with intense steel eyes. "Okay. So, you're stuck and nobody but me can see you. And for some reason, I'm _supposed _to see you, right?"

Bella nods. "Right. In dreams, I usually can identify the most important thing to pay attention to or alter because of this…instinctual pull my astral body feels. Now that I'm astral in the real world, the pull is more definitive and it leads to you."

She might have imagined it, but Edward's cheeks flush the lightest pink. He acts very different in his home than he does at school – more relaxed, not as much of an asshole. Or maybe she only _thought_ he was an asshole because she didn't know him that well.

"Why are you stuck?" Edward asks, breaking through Bella's slightly worrisome thoughts.

She shakes her head. She'd never really been one to assume and yet, she assumed so many things about Edward, so many obviously wrong things.

It made part of her feel bad.

"I'm just stuck," she says resolutely, forcing her mind to focus on the matter at hand; _Edward couldn't know about how she got stuck_.

Absolutely unmentionable.

Forbidden.

He just couldn't know.

"I fell asleep," she continues, lying easily. She lied so much already about her life, telling Edward this little fib was nothing. "I hadn't gotten good sleep last night because of…uh, Banner, actually-"

"Wait. So you _dreamed_ that?"

"Nightmare," she corrects blandly. "It was a horrible nightmare. But yes, I did know it was going to happen."

Edward is gazing at her with an unreadable expression, somewhere between awe and shock and respect. "So the gun…?"

Bella frowns, pulling her knees closer to her chest. "In the nightmare, it was Angela who asked him about grades. She was the first one dead…and then more than half the class," she shudders, recalling the bloodshed vividly.

Edward is tempted to pull Bella to his chest, hug her, protect her from the images obviously vaulting through her mind.

He forces himself to resist.

"You did something really brave," he tells her. "At the time, I thought it was really odd because you never talk to Banner. But now, I can see what you were trying to do…prevent."

Bella offers him a smile, the corner of her mouth lifting on one side. "Thanks."

"It could have been your life, though."

Bella shrugs. "I've been doing this my whole life. I know how to handle myself."

Edward admires her strength, the nonchalant way she handles herself. He had so much anger in him; if _he_ had been in her place, he just knew that the entire ordeal would have ended violently.

Still, the way she seemed to have no regard for her own safety was worrisome.

Edward wondered, absently taking his plate to the trash, if he would have the time to really know Bella – if he would be able to help her in the way her astral sense thought he could.

Clenching his fingers on the edge of his counter, closing his eyes, he hopes he can.

Something about Bella screamed for his protection.

He would be a fool to refuse her.

* * *

**A/N: UPDATE ONE OF TWO! **

**Hello much larger audience! Finals went great so, as a reward, I'm giving you guys a double update. Yay!**

**Special shout out to the first reviews of the last chapter –**

**Savannavansmutsmut – Hmm…he did have questions! He's quick on the uptake though!**

**Dinotopian – Thank you!**

**Sarah Amin – I like the way you put it! Lol Dream walking is a walk in the park!**

**Love M Go Blue – Good catch! I would consider her legs toned though, because she is constantly moving around. She might be rather thin, but there is **_**some**_** meat on her bones. I love you a little bit because you keep me on my writing toes! The whole Charlie-Bella-Bree treatment thing will be revealed later….;)**

**Flavia Ribeiro – Glad you love it!**

**Merylin – Hmmm, it might be a little slow paced, but it's going to pick up. I have no idea how long this ones going to be!**

**Valentine Rain – They kinda wanna hug you!**

**PanteraFenix Negra – Welcome back old friend!**

**Siobhan Whitlock – I hope I'm keeping you interested!**

**Wheels2 – His entire past – and why he lives alone – will be revealed in due time!**

**Dipsydoodle – I think this Edward handles things well!**

**Debslmac - **

**Krystalwinds1990 – You know, I wrote his reaction and then I was like…"That wasn't very epic" lol Sorry if I disappoint!**

**Cici G – Yep, I guess these characters don't beat around the bush lol**

**Sassy Mami – All will be told in due time!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. **

**~cupcakeriot**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Bella's astral body didn't sleep – but Edward did. After a very awkward moment of dancing around sleeping arrangements, which Bella ended quite efficiently by blurting that she simply _couldn't_ sleep, Edward had lumbered off to his room, resolutely closing the door behind him. Bella had then been at a loss; what could she do while he slept?

The answer came rather abruptly when, not an hour after Edward disappeared into his room, a low, keening groan drifted through the walls.

Edward was having a nightmare.

It was a gut feeling for Bella and she didn't hesitate to breach the barrier between his room and the living room.

For a moment, she admired the shape of his broad, tanned shoulders as he slept stretched out on his stomach. He was truly a fine specimen of a man.

Her flash of admiration didn't linger; her attention was drawn back to his situation, his fingers digging into dark sheets, his skin prickling under cold sweat.

It could have been his own nightmare, a nightmare that was private, meant solely for Edward.

It could have been, but it wasn't.

The pull of her astral instincts indicated that this nightmare was for _her_.

It was a horrifying realization, one that shook Bella to her core. She didn't seek Edward out for the mere fact that he was meant to help her; he was also meant to carry on her duty, forced to experience her nightmares while she was unable to. It wasn't fair to him – she wished that she could change this hopefully temporary fate of his, but she couldn't.

Bella believed in fate.

She had to, as a changer of fate, she had to believe it existed.

Right now, it was Edward's fate to have Bella's nightmares – but that didn't mean she couldn't help. She was the master of her nightly excursions, having dealt with them for the past seventeen years.

If Bella didn't help, Edward would be completely lost.

She takes a deep breath, huffing through her nose.

There was no easy way to breach someone's dreams; it wasn't something gentle that had to be done, it was abrupt, a violent intrusion. Bella was very familiar with it.

She seats her astral body on Edward's bed, the mattress unmoving underneath the invisible weight of her body, legs crossed, hands hovering over Edward's rebellious hair. Beside her, he made a pained, choked sound.

She didn't have time to waste.

Her fingers sink into his hair, buried in soft rust colored hair. With a resolute huff, Bella closes her eyes and allows her mind to sink into Edward's body, melding with his dreams, leaving the very translucent form of her body beside his as her astral mind sinks into his nightmare.

Her nightmare.

_To her trained eye, it was obvious that the nightmare had just started; the most horrific scene greeted Bella's entrance, large gasoline semi-truck burning, crunched home underneath fire, screams echoing into a dark night and, on the opposite side of the high way, a blue pick up twisted around a large tree. _

_Bella shivers._

_This was nothing new – she was used to these images and she kept them vague in her own mind. _

_The end result was never the most important part._

_Bella's eyes rove the scene for Edward, finding his stunned form beside the small blue truck, his eyes wide, dismayed, frightened, angry. His fingers push through his hair in distress; he doesn't notice her until she steps up beside him, forcing her eyes away from the mangled corpse reeking of whiskey that lay over the steering wheel. She gently turns him away._

"_The nightmares always start at the end," she tells him. "This is a warning, a picture of what will happen at the end."_

"_What?"_

"_This is the end of the nightmare," she says again, keeping calm. "We're about to go to the beginning, so brace yourself."_

_Before Edward can sputter out his incredulous response, the world around them blurs in reverse, the blue truck behind them uncoiling from the tree, backing up, un-swerving around the oncoming gasoline semi, driving backwards, parking in a lot, the driver stumbling gracelessly backwards towards a reversing door until, finally, the drunk driver is merely spending his time getting drunk._

_Edward looks dizzy._

_Bella, used to this rapid reversal, begins to observe her surroundings – she had to know the time, the exact place and the when._

_The dive bar was familiar, one that was on the outside of town near the highway. Nondescript, just wooden and brown, more like a shack than a place to get a drink. _

_Bella grabs Edward's elbow, leading him through the door._

"_We just walked through a door," Edward tells her unnecessarily. "_Through_ a door."_

"_Yes, we did. Now pay attention."_

_Edward digs his feet into the floor, causing Bella to stop. She sighs, looking up at his scowling face._

"_What the fuck is going on here, Bella?"_

_She removes her hand from his elbow. "You're having my nightmare."_

"_You mean, the nightmares that are actually premonitions that you have to stop from happening?"_

_Bella nods, once._

"_What the fuck?" Edward explodes, throwing his hands in the air. His voice is louder than the bad country music playing in the bar, but none of the patrons notice – they can't see her or Edward, they never can._

_Bella crosses her arms. "It's not like I picked you, Edward. This is beyond my control."_

_This doesn't seem to appease Edward._

"_This is five shades of fucked up! This shit is real?"_

"_You thought I was lying?"_

"_No!"_

"_You thought I was crazy, then?"_

"_No," he insists, his body suddenly losing tension. "No. I believed you. I just…didn't expect this."_

_Bella pushes hair out of her face, shrugging one shoulder. "Neither did I, trust me. This is the last thing I wanted. But since I apparently can't change it or prevent it, we have to get to work. What happened back there…that's a tragedy we can prevent."_

_Edward stares at her back for a moment. "Has anyone ever told you that you're remarkably brave?"_

_She smothers her snort – she was brave? She was probably the most cowardly person on the planet, too scared to lose the small bond with her siblings, too scared to defend herself, too scared to stop Charlie. What she did with the nightmares wasn't the product of courage – it simply was. _

_A duty. _

_A purpose._

_It was her life – nothing more, nothing less._

"_Come on, Edward," she says, purposefully choosing not to reply to his last remark. "We have to figure out a way to prevent this nightmare from becoming a reality."_

_Hands in his pockets, Edward nods, following Bella a safe distance away, merely watching as she seems to wander aimlessly around._

_He could only assume she was letting her "instincts" guide her._

_It was odd, he decided, to be lucid, to know he was dreaming about a future event. He wondered how she kept her sanity, especially if those images that assaulted her on a nightly basis._

_He wondered how many tragedies she prevented on her own – how many lives she saved._

_That number was probably very high, considering the very low crime rate of their small town._

"_Got it," Bella says suddenly, standing beside a gruff man in a plaid shirt, greasy hair hanging over his face. She nods towards the set of car keys sitting beside his whiskey shot on the bar top. "We just need to get these."_

"_Great," Edward says quickly. "Get them and let's get out of here. I don't _like_ being here-"_

"_Edward," she interrupts, stepping away from the sloppy drunk. "Taking his keys away here isn't going to do any good."_

_He blinks at her._

_Bella sighs. "We need to get out of this dream and actually _do_ something about it," she says firmly. "Go to this bar right now and take them away."_

"_How do you know this is happening right now?"_

_Bella crosses her arms over her chest. "I never nightmare more than two days in advance," she confesses, her eyes flicking to something over his shoulder. "Plus, that little television is set on the news. Date and time, right there. Let's go."_

_Edward decided Bella was a lot smarter than she looked._

_She reaches for him and hesitates, shaking off the feel of his eyes on her face – that didn't matter right now. Bella grabs his hands suddenly and forces them from the nightmare, her eyes closed as she shuts off the invisible connection to the future._

Upon waking, Edward gasps, cold sweat dried on his back. He moves, sitting up, the sheet falling off his waist to reveal plain black boxers slung low on his hips. "Jesus, was that real?" he mutters.

Bella takes a moment to make sure she's fully settled in her astral body before she answers. "Yes. Grab your keys. We have to leave now," she orders, standing from his bed.

"Right," Edward answers, reaching for his dirty jeans and whatever shirt that was next to it on the floor. Comfortable in his body – he was arrogant enough to _know_ he looked good – he doesn't mind Bella's silent presence in his room as he dresses quickly.

Keys in hand, Edward and Bella rush out his front door. Edward blinks stupidly when Bella passes through his passenger door; it was so weird to see someone so tangible just…disappearing through objects and coming out unscathed on the other side. He shakes the thought off and pulls out of his driveway, listening to Bella's directions.

Merging onto the highway, he glances at her lithe form. "What would you do normally? I mean, this bar is pretty far from your house."

Bella shrugs. "Walk," she answers simply. She chooses to omit the fact that her astral body can transport her anywhere she wanted if she knew the location. It wasn't relevant.

"You don't wake Riley?"

"It's not his responsibility," she tells him, her toffee eyes cutting to the side.

Edward nods. "Okay. I get that."

"Good."

"Right."

"Left here."

"Right," he replies easily, hands clenching and unclenching on the wheel. He can't bite his tongue for too long and finds himself blurting words into the silence of his car. "Why is it _my_ responsibility?"

Bella sighs, shifting, placing her feet on his dash – something he hates but can't really comment on, given the fact that she wasn't really _there_. If she was ever truly in his car, he'd have to break that habit.

"It's your responsibility because of fate. Just accept it. It's temporary."

Edward doesn't get the chance to respond, as Bella is already waiting for him in front of the bar. _Shit, she's fast. And impatient. _

He just barely manages to follow her through the dark bar, hands in pockets as he tries to seem as casual as possible. He had the brief thought that he was glad it was _him_ to have this nightmare; a girl as pretty as Bella didn't belong alone in a place like this.

Thankfully, the bar owner seems to be absent or out back, as he is able to slip through the mostly empty room with admirable stealth. Like in the nightmare, Bella is standing beside the oblivious drunk, eyeing the keys.

"_What do I do?"_ Edward mouths, standing on the other side of the slightly snoring drunk man.

She rolls her eyes. "Just take it. He's passed out for now."

Edward nods – that makes sense, after all. Carefully, he closes his hands around the sparse set of keys, gripping them tightly so he doesn't make noise.

Then he turns to Bella, hand full of keys at his side. "_Now what?_"

Bella's eyes rove around the bar, her body pulling her towards the bathroom. She turns, quirking a brow at Edward. "Flush them."

And so, he does.

* * *

**A/N: UPDATE TWO OF TWO! I'm continuing to respond to reviews from Chapter 5 here!**

**Twilight Rocker 12 – Glad this could cure your cold! Lol**

**Jansails – Bella's astral form is seeking him out for all kinds of reasons. She won't be in that form for too long!**

**miranda04 – Like I've said before, people who grow up around violence react in different ways; they watch, the ignore, they become violent themselves, etc. Riley and Bree are still teenagers and they do what they can to help after the fact. Sometimes, that has to be enough.**

**boo1414 – Ah, Edward, he seems a little dopey here lol**

**solidae26 – Glad you love it!**

**luvstwilight4ever – Glad you liked the chapter!**

**james3142 – LOL I love how you get suspicious of **_**Edward**_**! Hilarious!**

**brittany86 – Good observation. You know how some people are only really certain that they love black coffee? Well, that's how he feels about fighting – he likes the fight and to an extent, he might like the pain. Just like black-coffee lovers might not want cream or sugar, Edward might not want to deal with anything outside of his fists.**

**LunaDiSangue85 – Lol at this point, why he can see her is like a four-for-one!**

**Libby Blue – Hmmm, I wonder how prone to over reacting this Edward might be!**

**yagalinus0420 – I love your enthusiasm!**

**ratih choco – I'm glad you love the story, even if you hate the Charlie!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Bree woke up uncharacteristically early.

She skipped her morning shower, throwing on a random outfit of mismatched blues and creeping down the stairs as quietly as possible. She cringes when the last step creaks, her eyes darting to the door at the top of the steps – her father's room.

Luckily, the light is still off.

With swift feet, Bree rushes through the kitchen and into the basement.

Her heart sinks.

Bella is still sleeping soundly – _or is she sleeping?_

Her chest moves with shallow breathes, her face is smooth; she seems to me sleeping peacefully despite the glaring dark bruises on her skin and the lacerations covered in wet ointment.

Yet oddly, as Bree gazes at her twin, the feeling that Bella isn't _there_ is insistent in her mind.

It scares Bree, distracts her enough that she jumps when Riley's hand shakes her shoulder gently. He, too, looks at his slumbering youngest sibling, his brows furrowed. Even though he was looking right _at_ her, Bella didn't seem to be in the room.

Like it was only her body, not her spirit.

"We have to do something about this," he tells Bree. "Soon."

Bree bites her lip. "What are we going to do about breakfast? Charlie will be expecting…"

Riley pushes a hand through his hair. "Right. Bella did that," he frowns, glancing at the watch on his wrist. "We have time to cook that. Something simple."

Fifteen minutes later, Bree is panicking – the eggs are runny, the bacon is burnt and Riley's idea of toast is too sad to mention. "Bella made all of this look so easy," she whispers to him harshly, nearly cringing when Riley puts the plate on the table. "There's no way he's going to believe she cooked this!"

Riley shakes his head. "What else can we do? We just need to get him out of the house, call the school about Bella's absence and get her to the hospital."

"So Charlie can be notified? Everyone knows who his kids are, Ri," Bree sighs, rubbing a small fist over her eyes. "We can't take her to any hospital around here."

Riley closes his eyes, leaning elbows on the kitchen counter, his nose inhaling the sorry excuse for breakfast that he and Bree managed to whip up. "You're right," he says slowly, the weights of responsibility on his shoulders making him feel much older than he should. "You're right. But what about the hospital in Port-"

Riley bites his tongue, cutting off the words as the heavy clomp of steel-toe boots on old stairs greets his ears. Bree cringes into his side, her eyes darting to the plate of under and overcooked food; when Charlie enters the kitchen, Bree clutches her brother's arms so harshly that she leaves marks from her nails.

Riley doesn't flinch, doesn't move his eyes from his father's much larger form.

_Charlie doesn't seem…like Charlie today_.

It was true; Charlie seemed to be lifeless, his gaze listless as he looks at the plate of food, his face blank as he nods a greeting to his children.

All of his fire, all of his _hate_, seemed to have seeped out of him.

Riley couldn't help but recall the day before, when Charlie had yelled at Bella, using his mother's name – Charlie's eyes hadn't been quite right then, either, even with anger in his veins.

Just like Bella didn't seem to be here, neither did Charlie.

Bree relaxed marginally when Charlie turned away from the plate, grabbed his gun holster and slid into his jacket – she hardly jumps when the door slams shut behind him.

Neither sibling moves until the sound of tires on gravel fade.

"Jesus," Riley breathes, tilting his head back. "What the fuck is going on today?"

"Ri, call the school," Bree prompts.

He nods his head. "Right. Right," he says, moving to the outdated orange phone on the wall. "How weird was he acting though? I know I wasn't imagining that. He almost seemed…"

"Sad," Bree whispers, wrapping her arms around her waist, feeling chilled suddenly. In all her life, while Charlie had always treated her well and with love, there had _always_ been an undercurrent of anger, as if he was constantly on the edge. His behavior this morning was a far cry from that and she didn't know what to make of it. "You think he might feel guilty?"

A dark shadow crosses Riley's face. "No," he says shortly. "That bastard doesn't feel anything but hate. I don't know what's wrong with him and I don't care. I want my sister out of this house right now, away from him." Riley's eyes lock onto Bree's, the same shade of icy blue. "Bree, go downstairs and pack a bag for her, some clothes or whatever…just make sure her I.D. isn't with it."

Bree nods slowly, her brows furrowing. "Okay…but why no I.D.?

Riley seems much more in command, his back straight, head high, as he replies. "I want her to recover. If they figure out she isn't a Jane Doe, they'll call Charlie and then we'll all be in a shitload of trouble."

Bree nods again, following the logic. She doesn't stick around to listen on Riley's call the school; she already knew he would be imitating Charlie's deep voice and she didn't particularly want to hear it.

Bree was sure she would be happy to live the rest of her life without hearing her father's voice.

Perhaps it was a bit cold to think that way – perhaps she should forgive him, but her heart couldn't. After all of these years, she had finally reached the last straw and the fear that her sister would be taken from her was clogging her throat.

She would rather Charlie die and she had no remorse over that.

She keeps her eyes averted as she packs up Bella's school bag with her most favorite clothes, several of Bella's crossword books and a few blue pens and the identical teddy bear that both Bree and Bella had since birth.

By the time she is done, Riley is down in the basement, jacket on, shoes tied. "Bree, go put that bag with our backpacks in the trunk, then grab a pillow and a blanket for her," he instructs, kneeling down beside Bella's makeshift bed.

Carefully, very gently, Riley hooks his arms under Bella's knees and back, suddenly very grateful that she was small and that he could bench his own weight. With Bree's help, Bella's battered body is set in the back seat of his car, her head on an overly fluffy pillow, covered by a large tattered blanket from the basement.

While driving, Riley is very careful to take back roads – even though it takes more time. He doesn't want to risk Charlie seeing the car. Both he and Bree relax when they merge onto the highway, the siblings settling into their seats as Riley drives them to the hospital in the next county.

An hour and a half later, two nurses find Bella's broken body slumped over on the bench outside the emergency room, completely covered by a large blue blanket. They act quickly, calling for a gurney and the trauma doctor.

In that second, Bella's body became Jane Doe.

* * *

**A/N: So, the last two weeks have been…Well, you know when everything is going great and things seem **_**too**_** easy and then it's not a surprise when Life serves up a steaming pile of shit? Yeah, that has been my last two weeks. **

_**Thankfully**_**, my birthday is tomorrow, I'm turning 19 and going to see Star Trek: Into Darkness…Wonderful readers, you can probably bet that one of my next stories is going to be a sci-fi lol**

**Shout out to the first 10 reviews of the last chapter:**

**LunaDiSangue85 – It was a surprise that he would have the nightmares? I suppose so, but then again, Bella has a **_**very**_** important job, preventing tragedy all the time. Just because she's out of commission doesn't mean there's not a job to do! Lol**

**boo1414 – Yes! Edward will be able to help Bella re-join!**

**Savannavansmutsmut – Thank you! I think keys flush…I'm amazed at what my four year old cousin manages to flush!**

**Sarah Amin – Mmmhmm, that Edward. Tough guy, sweetheart. Love him!**

**Flavia Ribeiro – Me too! She needs someone!**

**BMSCullen – LOL I read between the lines here! You can't wait until Charlie gets his ass kicked!**

**Debslmac – Charlie's gonna get something all right!**

**Twilight Rocker 12 – LOL It seems like everyone is waiting for the Charlie bomb to drop! I had a talk with a close friend of mine who wants to be an editor and she helped me out with some rough spots in the plot since I didn't outline this story! Be patient!**

**Superspecial shout out to the first review of the last chapter - Sassy Mami – Girl! Good question! No, Charlie doesn't have the precognitive dreams; it totally comes from Renee's side of the family! **

**Alright, I'm off to frost a cake!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it!**

**~cupcakeriot**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Bella jolts, the oddest sensation of being _moved_ even though she was motionless entering her mind; it almost felt like she was being lifted, carried, set down. It couldn't possibly be true, of course – she was sitting with her legs crossed, watching the cartoons Edward left on with a bored expression while he took a shower.

She _knew_ she wasn't moving.

Her stomach drops suddenly – at least, her _astral body_ wasn't moving.

Her real body though…

Fingers twist into black wool as Bella frowns, her shoulders slumping forward. It would be easy to find her body, easy to figure out what was happening, but cold fear was heavy on her chest.

She thought maybe it was best if she stayed in the dark for a little while longer.

She couldn't explain her reasoning, except perhaps to give credit to the abuse and the fact that, for now, she had reasonably escaped that fate.

But Bella wasn't delusional; eventually, she would have to go back, sooner or later.

She had the distinct feeling that it would be sooner.

Bella struggles not to tense up when Edward stalks out of his room, straight into the kitchen to rummage through his refrigerator, pulling out milk and orange juice and then turning to his blender. She watches with interest as he measures out the powder for the protein shake, adding milk and flicking the blender on while he poured a small glass of orange juice, which he drinks while the blender is going.

It seems like this was his everyday breakfast. Odd for someone who ate pizza almost every night, but he was on the wrestling team – this should be expected.

The near-constant frown that had been on his face since he woke up deepens as he transfers the thick protein shake into a tall travel mug. "What?" he snaps, irritated at the feel of her eyes on his neck. It was starting to creep him out, make his skin prickle, make him feel on edge.

Bella stands, averting her eyes, carefully schooling her expression. "Nothing."

One of Edward's large hands waves in her direction, though his eyes don't follow the movement. "Aren't you going back?"

Bella doesn't flinch. "I can't," she says. "I'm still stuck outside of my body. I can't just force myself in."

She feels like she's telling the truth because, despite the fact that she _could_ go back and find her body, wherever it was now, she knew she still wouldn't be able to sink back into it like normal.

Edward sighs heavily, chugging a large portion of his shake. He clears his throat. "So what are you going to do all day? Just sit around my house? Or will you go play ghost somewhere else?"

Bella's brows furrow just the slightest – Edward was reverting back into the asshole she knew and tolerated. The almost sweet man-child from last night had disappeared.

She tried not to be too disappointed.

Instead, she focuses on the gut feeling that lead her astral body around. What would she do today? "I'll just be shadowing you."

Edward scowls briefly before his expression clears. "Great. Whatever. Let's go before I'm late."

The ten minutes it takes to reach the school is full of near-painfully awkward silence; Edward suddenly didn't want Bella around anymore and she felt compelled to be around him.

It was uncomfortable to say the least.

She couldn't help but compare Edward's behavior to Charlie's – why was it that people found her so undesirable? Nobody wanted her around.

It was a struggle to keep that particular pain from showing on her face, so Bella kept her eyes out the window, her mouth tight, her body as compact as she could make it.

She was stupid – she'd let her guard down in front of Edward, let him see a glimpse of the girl she knew she could be in response to the almost-gentle man he appeared to be at his home.

That was a mistake, clearly.

Bella tenses her body as another jolt runs through her – her _real_ body is being moved again, quite quickly from the feel of it. Maybe she would be able to get back in much sooner, because last night she hadn't been able to feel her body at all.

Whatever Charlie had knocked around was apparently healing.

_Good_, she thinks with as much venom as she can, _because I can't stand to be around this ass anymore_.

Even she knew she was lying to herself.

Edward's presence, regardless of his asshole behavior, was warm, secure, safe – all feelings that Bella had been denied her entire life. She was addicted to the safety being around him promised and it was torture knowing that _he_ didn't want _her_ around, didn't want to see her or hear her, didn't want to even know her.

Why did fate put her with people who didn't want her?

It hurt, being unwanted all the time.

Edward pulls smoothly into a parking space, cutting the ignition and turning an irritated glare towards Bella, who wouldn't even look at him, which irritated him more, though he couldn't exactly place why. He took a second to study her posture, noting absently that she tried to make herself look as small as possible and suddenly her creamy pale legs didn't look so healthy any more.

It was weird.

Like a flash, Bella's body seemed superimposed over another version of Bella, one that looked beaten and broken and much smaller, almost to the point of being malnourished.

As fast as it happened, the image disappeared but to Edward, it seemed to last forever.

Because that random flash, that quick revealing image, made his stomach sink – the flash looked much more like the Bella he knew before she showed up on her driveway, at least, the _weight_ of the flashed body did. He didn't know what to think about the dark cuts and bruises. He didn't want to think about them.

Bella didn't really explain all that much about the appearance of her astral body, except for the fact that she literally couldn't change what she was wearing.

She didn't indicate that her astral body, a projection of her _mind_, might be a representative for how she _should_ look.

The Bella he remembered seeing in the flesh the other day was much thinner than the Bella in his car right now.

And it didn't make any sense until Edward thought about the bruises that the flashed image revealed.

_What if someone…beat Bella so badly that she…_

Edward's mind, sharp and quick, instantly deduced that that's _exactly_ what happened to Bella. She wasn't parting with personal information or how she got like this, but the superimposed flash told Edward much more that Bella ever would.

Somebody beat her so badly, obviously hit part of her head so harshly, that her astral body was literally _knocked_ out of her mind.

His hands tighten on the wheel. _Who would do that_? _She's so fucking small, even like this. I'm at least double her size and maybe triple her weight. She's tiny. Whoever did this was a beast_.

And that left the question of _who_.

Nothing came to mind.

Bella didn't interact with anyone at school, except sometimes Riley and Bree.

Edward wasn't blind though – he saw the looks she sometimes got from the seniors, looks that didn't seem to register to her, looks that she didn't seem to notice.

His eyes cut to his classmates milling about the parking lot – _was it one of you_?

He could hardly restrain the urge to turn on his car and drive back home, where he was on home territory and could better protect her.

He didn't, of course. He couldn't. How could he explain why he was so _rude_ to her thirty minutes earlier or why he had this sudden, barely restrained urge to protect her.

Like Bella was his.

It was a ridiculous thought, one that sent his heart pounding and made his fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

The first bell rings, the warning bell, calling all students into the school with a shrill tone – and the sudden piercing noise snaps Edward out of his thoughts.

His eyes dart back to Bella – had he imagined that superimposed image?

_No_. No, he couldn't have.

Right?

He didn't have time to think about it.

Sighing, he releases the steering wheel, abolishing all thoughts of Bella and her issues from his mind. Now was not the time to be thinking about that shit anyway.

He opens his car door, grabs his backpack from the foot of the passenger's side of levels Bella with a steady stare. "I don't care what you do today, but don't distract me, okay? I have wrestling practice today."

As he closes the door, a grimace closes over his face – why did his words feel heavy on his tongue, like he shouldn't be saying shit like that to her?

He waits for a second as Bella literally passes through his car and comes to stand slightly behind him before he stalks towards the school. He tries not to let her meek behavior bother him, but it does. It really does. Where was the entertaining, sarcastic, witty, determined girl from last night? And why was he so irritated, acting like an asshole towards the only girl who had ever inspired _feelings_ in him?

Neither Edward nor Bella notice that Riley's car is missing from the parking lot.

* * *

**A/N: Well, that's another installment!**

**If you haven't seen **_**Star Trek: Into Darkness**_** yet, you should. That's an order! Yum, Zachary Quinto and Chris Pine in those butt-hugging pants? So good! I might have a thing for Spock – or maybe it's just a Quinto-obsession – but good Lord! *fans face* Anyway, Star Trek and Spock did inspire a sci-fi fanfiction that is currently plotting itself in my head…. ;)**

**Shout out to the reviews of the last chapter, because fanfiction messed things up and now I don't know who sent what or when –**

boo1414 – Oh, cool! We have the same birthday!

shar76 – Nah, it should be easy enough getting back into her body…I think!

Dinotopian – Ah, since Bella's still a minor, Charlie can take her out of the hospital against doctor's orders and it's still legal!

Flavia Ribeiro – Or does she? Seems like he's figuring her story out!

solidae26 – lol I imagine her body is in a hospital gown by now!

james3142 – Ah, they are still kids. I think they're doing what they can while still being safe themselves. Fear does funny things to people!

Cici G – Ah, what's not up with Charlie, that bastard?

vampyregirl86 – I'll take "unique" to the bank! Lol

Valentine Rain – Yep, my last "teen year" lol

Sparklymagpie – There's obviously something very wrong with Charlie's head…

Sarah Amin – Ah, hate them, love them. They all do the best they can as teenagers!

jterry453 – lol I am writing books, kind of. All this that's on fanfiction is serving as rough drafts!

Nalia-R – Glad I could help!

Debslmac – I did enjoy it! That movie was amazing!

BMSCullen – Or the guilt is getting to him!

Sassy Mami – You should feel special!

LunaDiSangue85 – Lol well they couldn't admit her to the hospital or Charlie would know!

Twilight Rocker 12 – A spiked hammer coated in poison, acid and salt? Remind me not to piss you off!

Siobhan Whitlock – Such good questions that I can't answer!

Savannavansmutsmut – Hmmm, what will happen next?

Krystalwinds1990 – They are fraternal, so Bella looks more like Renee – sucks how that works!

**Superspecial shout out to the first review of the last chapter – **Thepinktabby – kind of sorry I made you cry!

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

"Where have you been?" Edward asks without interest when Riley sits beside him halfway through English.

Riley grimaces. "Had shit to do. Don't want to talk about it."

Edward finds this odd – Riley _always_ wants to talk.

Why wouldn't he now?

Unless….unless he knew about Bella.

His eyes dart to the front of the room, where Bella is busy observing the teacher up close. If he wasn't in such an unexplainably foul mood, he might have laughed.

Mr. Mason, the English teacher, was portly, almost like a pig, who spoke in gentle tones, often adopting accents to make his assignments more entertaining. Right now, Bella was watching him with wide eyes, her head tilted in such a way that her mocha colored hair fell across her face.

_Has she always been that pretty?_

Edward fights off the urge to smile – he almost understood why Bella was in the front of the room. For as long as he'd gone to this school, almost two years, any class he'd ever shared with Riley's little sister had featured her slumped in the back corner, often a hood on her head, her nose buried in some crossword magazine.

She'd never been in the front before and now that nobody – except Edward, apparently – could see her, she was taking advantage of it. She'd done the exact thing during his first two classes.

Edward remembers a book he read in middle school, where the main character was a ghost who visited his old haunts and played tricks on people – he half expected Bella to do the same thing.

But what was it that she said?

"_I can only interact with objects that directly involve me in my real life. So, no, I can't open your car door. And I don't want to. What if I smudged your baby?"_

He hadn't quite understood, then, what she had been talking about, but he did now.

He decides that she must feel very helpless now.

_And I'm not making it any better by acting like a grade A asshole. Good job, man. Spectacular. _

Edward sighs deeply, settling his chin into the palm of his hand; his eyes cut to the side, observing Riley who seems completely out of it.

Why didn't his best friend want to talk about why he was skipping school?

Did it have something to do with Bella?

Edward sighs again, this time drawing Bella's curious gaze – before he can stop himself, he scowls at her and she looks away.

Too bad Edward can't slap himself without drawing the attention of his class, because he _really _feels like doing that.

The rest of the day passes much the same way, with Bella getting up close and personal with several other people, scrutinizing them in such a way that made Edward nervous about how she thought of _him_, and with Riley being oddly unresponsive. Even Bree, who was normally overly cheerful, seemed somber.

And it didn't escape his notice that the only people Bella avoided were her siblings.

_Fucking weird_.

Not that she interacted with them much, but it seemed like Bella made a point to ignore her brother and sister. Or maybe it hurt too much to see them, knowing that they can't hear her.

Both possibilities made Edward's stomach turn. He skipped lunch in favor of dozing under the bleachers.

Bella tried to talk him out of it and he scoffed, ignoring her cautious protests.

He probably should have listened to her.

_With a groan, Edward finds himself, disoriented, in the middle of the small town police station. _

_He's staring down the barrel of a gun._

_His heart almost leaps out of his chest, until the gun suddenly turns away and then he can see that a police officer is turning the gun to point at his own head._

_Edward's eyes close._

_The gun goes off._

_A thud falls to the ground._

_And then, a sigh beside him. "Not again. God, Lenny."_

_Edward's eyes blink open, automatically falling on Bella's petite form leaning against the door of the interrogation room._

_His eyes remain locked onto hers as the scene blurs into a rapid rewind until Lenny, the suicidal cop, can be seen moaning over a letter on his desk._

_Edward winces at the sound of male sobbing – it's too odd._

"_Third time this month," Bella tells him, stepping away towards Lenny. _

"_What is?"_

_Bella gestures tiredly too the sobbing form of Lenny. "He's going through a nasty divorce. Poor fool is suicidal. I guess he really loves his wife," he tells him. "He does this about once a week, when he gets a letter from the mediator."_

_Edward's stomach churns. Oh, he knew all about divorces. His own parent's was something –_

_No. Not the time to think about it._

"_Right," he says after a long pause. "So, what do you do?"_

"_Usually? I hide the gun," Bella stops, frowning. "I'm not sure if I should. I've never had a recurring suicidal person before. Preventing it once does the trick but Lenny…he seems like he really wants to go."_

_Edward crosses his arms, nodding his head. "I get it. You feel like you're playing God."_

"_Aren't I, in a way? I'm preventing deaths and I'm…not sure if I should."_

_For a second, Edward sees the superimposed image again – the beaten, broken Bella that made his heart clench. _

_Instead of commenting, he fists his hands and tenses his jaw. "We're saving this guy."_

_Bella's eyes are sharp on his, almost glaring. "Of course we are."_

_Edward takes a step back. "You sounded like you didn't want to-"_

"_I don't want to play God," she interrupts quickly. "But that doesn't matter. What I want and don't want doesn't matter. Lenny's life does."_

_Edward is silent, unable to properly respond to that, though his mind did process that she felt almost nothing for herself – like _she_ didn't matter._

_That made him angry._

_Before he gets a chance to open his mouth to give her a piece of his mind, Bella waves her hands and the dream dissipates._

"Wake up," Bella orders in the real world, leaning over his face. She snaps. "Lenny usually tries at one. We have fifteen minutes."

Edward squints. "You have him _timed_?"

Bella blinks at him. "Not like it's hard."

"Wait, fifteen minutes? That cuts into my next class. Bella, I can't-"

"You're going to just let this man kill himself?" she demands. "You just said you wanted to save him!"

Edward frowns, nodding his head. "Right. You're right. It's not like I've never skipped before."

"Good. Let's go."

"Right," Edward nods. "Just, we have to sneak back in so I don't get caught coming back."

Bella tilts her head at him as he stands, one hand fishing for his keys. "Would it be a problem if you got caught?"

"Coach would ban me. I'm on probation from last time."

She rolls her eyes at him. "I'll make sure you're in the clear, then. Let's _go_."

Bella easily leads him through the most deserted parts of the school, bringing him to his car in under a minute – he doesn't ask how she does it, figuring it had something to do with her kind-of-ghost-body and whatever senses came with it.

By the time Edward pulls into the police station, Bella's impatience it at a high, her fingers twitching as she passes through his car and into the building. Edward rolls his eyes as he has to use the door.

Oddly enough, the police station is deserted; granted, it _was_ a small town and they only had about six officers plus the Chief. Just like in the nightmare – day dream, actually – Lenny is sobbing, slouched over his desk. Edward holds his body still against a side wall, watching as Bella circles Lenny's sobbing form.

How, exactly, was she planning on handling this?

It didn't seem like Lenny was moving any time soon.

Bella hurries over to Edward, a frown sharp on her delicate features. "You'll have to make a distraction," she tells him. "I should be able to nudge the gun into his lock drawer."

Bella materializes behind Lenny before Edward can protest.

_How the fuck did she get over there so fast?_

He shakes his head. Not the time to think about it, not while Bella is waving her hands at him, indicating that he was supposed to _do_ something.

"What the _fuck_ am I supposed to do?" he says out loud, much louder than he meant to. His voice carries easily through to the next room and Lenny's head pops up.

"Hello?" Lenny calls, his voice rasping as he rapidly wipes under his eyes. Lenny stands from his chair, leaving his desk and conveniently forgetting his police-issue gun. "Who's there?"

Bella hurries, using all of her willpower to push his gun off his desk and into Lenny's open top drawer, one that has a lock with a key that seems to be permanently missing. The gun clanks loudly into the drawer, causing Lenny to spin around – only to see nothing as his drawer slams shut.

Lenny looks like he's about to throw up, apparently believing that a ghost was in the police station.

Edward, on the other hand, has gone pale for a different reason.

The superimposed image of broken, beaten Bella held for much longer than a few seconds and every one of her injuries registered in his mind.

She was much worse off than he originally thought and it made him absolutely sick.

* * *

**A/N: Mid-terms kicked my ass, so I'm quadruple updating this week!**

**Shout out to the first ten reviews from the last chapter –**

**Sassy Mami – Glad you enjoyed it!**

**Guest – Right? Well, she'll know better soon!**

**Twilight Rocker 12 – LOL so glad that you know what kind of serial killer you would be! That's not creepy at all!**

**LunaDiSangue85 – Bella totally could use a hug!**

**boo1414 – Ah, what's not Edward's problem?**

**Krystalwinds1990 – Ah, you're so intuitive!**

**solidae26 – It might have changed the tone, you're right lol**

**brittany86 – I promise that I update as quickly and as possible as I can!**

**Savannavansmutsmut – Hmm, it could be because she thought of her father – interesting, very interesting!**

**Sarah Amin – Ah, Edward's a broody asshole, that's why we love him!**

**Super special shout out to the first review of the last chapter – ****blnl0085 – you could never be a geek for wanting to see some Chris Pine and **_**Zachary Quinto**_** (shiver-inducing!) in some Star Trek! lol**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Edward hadn't said a word to Bella since she snuck him back into school, easily evading the teachers wandering the halls, thus ensuring that his wrestling coach wouldn't kick him off the team.

He'd been brooding – silent, glaring, his body stiff.

It wasn't particularly odd behavior for him, he knew that, but it _felt_ weird, because he knew he was brooding for a different reason.

Bella.

The girl he'd never paid much mind to.

He'd always known she was there – she was Riley's little sister, after all – but she wasn't a huge part of his life.

She was out on the wings, fluttering in his peripheral.

And he was furious about it.

How long had she been beaten?

He never thought it was weird that she preferred dark sweaters and hooded sweatshirts, things that covered her overly thin body; the climate of this town in particular _was_ chilly most days, even in the summer. Her attire gave nothing away.

He also never paid attention to how she allowed her hair to hide her face, the short locks framing her delicate cheekbones, her gentle jaw, hair falling over her eyes and forehead – he assumed she just liked her hair that way.

He didn't pay attention to the pain in her toffee eyes, pain that was apparent to him now that he'd _finally_ noticed something was wrong.

Edward never even gave a second thought to her standoffish attitude, the way she avoided everyone, including her siblings – he just didn't think it was too odd. He shamefully thought she was a bitch and he shouldn't have.

If he could, Edward would beat himself up.

He remembered what he'd said about her just the day before and clenches his fists tight.

God, but he was an idiot.

A blind fucking idiot.

Just like everyone else in this school.

He knew, from passing conversation, that Bella was in the top of the class – easily one of the smartest people in the school – and yet, for that accomplishment, nobody bothered to notice her bruises, her odd behavior?

And then there were her siblings – did they know? Did they know and not do anything about it?

He almost couldn't bear the thought.

As he changes in the locker room, quickly pulling on a black ribbed tank-top, his tight athletic black underwear and white basketball shorts, Edward also avoids Riley.

How can he talk to his best friend without blowing up with accusations?

He can't – so he avoids him and everyone else until it's time to spar on the wrestling mats, his mouth guard keeping him quiet as he circles with Riley.

Bella sits in the bleachers, knees pulled up to her chest.

He knew she didn't realize it, but her image was flickering between beaten and healthy, driving Edward mad with the mystery of it.

It made him so angry, so much more angry than he had been in a long time.

His parents had gone through a nasty divorce, the lawyer and the good doctor – the perfect, successful couple splitting up after fifteen years of marriage. It was a horrible ordeal, with custody battles and court hearings and attorneys in his mother's firm throwing ugly words at his father's attorneys. Just that was enough to give any kid some anger issues.

But none of that had been enough.

No, what made it all worse was the fact that it hadn't mattered in the end. While his mother was driving to the last custody hearing, she'd been side-swiped by a drunk driver, the rainy streets of Seattle providing the perfect setting to send her car tumbling, twisting, turning into a semi – she'd died instantly, still technically married to Edward's father.

It wasn't fair.

It made him so angry.

For six months, he got into any fight he could, avoided anger-management classes, acted out, put his father through absolute hell until he was sent to an intensive rehabilitation clinic for kids like him, kids with anger management issues, kids that were natural-born brawlers. And after that clinic, he was sent to this foggy little town, gifted a house and officially out of his father's hair, save for the outrageous monthly allowance that Edward saved for the most part.

Nobody knew that about him.

But he wanted Bella to know.

He wanted to share scars and pain and protect her.

And it seemed like everything was standing in the way.

"Edward, pay attention," Coach says, drawing him from his thoughts. "You need to work on your headlock, it's looking flat today."

Edward nods, silently agreeing that his moves were lackluster.

It was Bella.

She stole all his attention.

That made him mad, too.

Edward takes the opportunity to vent his anger at the entire situation when he spars again with Riley, throwing his body into well-remembered wrestling moves without holding back.

Riley is forced onto his back, his face red from lack of oxygen as he taps the floor, silently begging for an out.

Edward releases him.

Coach claps him on the back. "Take a breather, Edward. You're getting too worked up. This is just practice."

Edward wipes his forehead, sighing, nodding. He takes out his mouthpiece. "I'm okay, Coach. Promise."

He's not.

That doesn't matter.

Coach waves him off, convinced that Edward's head is cool again, and walks off; Riley winces when he stands up.

"You okay, man?"

Edward cuts his eyes to the side.

No, he wasn't okay. He wasn't _fucking_ okay and neither was Bella.

He looks up at her, sitting daintily on the bleachers, hugging her knees, her chin balanced as she looks right back at him.

Her image flickers.

And, before he can even process the thought, Edward is opening his mouth. "Where the fuck is Bella?" he demands, turning back to Riley.

Riley's face pales.

Edward rounds on him, using his few inches of height to loom over his best friend. "You _know_."

Riley looks away. "I don't know what you're talking about-"

Edward clasps Riley's shoulder, pulling him to the side, just to the side of the bleachers where he'd napped earlier. "I'm not a fucking idiot. Bella really does have the nightmares, doesn't she?" he grits out, tightening his grip on Riley's shoulder. "She saves these fucking people and it doesn't matter, nobody knows. She prevents all this _shit_ and she's rewarded with someone beating her-"

Riley slaps his hand away. "Keep your voice down."

Edward hadn't noticed that he'd gotten loud. He scowls. "_Who_ is hurting her?"

Riley looks away. "Look, man, I can't say-"

"You fucking know and you let it happen-"

"It's more complicated than that-"

"The fuck it is!" Edward hisses. "I should beat your ass for allowing-"

"I've tried to stop it," Riley argues. "I have. I do the best that I can. But I have another sister to protect-"

"That's bullshit and you know it-"

"It's not bullshit-"

"It is! What about Bella? What about her life-"

"One more year and she's safe-"

"And _where_ the fuck is Bella anyway? Her astral what-the-fuck-ever is following me around, giving me nightmares, making me fix shit and now she's flickering-"

"Edward," Riley says tersely, his firm voice cutting off the other teen, his icy blue gaze intense. "Edward, what are you talking about."

Mindlessly, Edward gestures to the bleachers. "_Bella_," he stresses, "was in my driveway last night, when it was raining, and she wasn't getting wet, like the weather didn't even matter. And now she's passing through car doors and preventing disasters and keeping me up at night. It's been a day and I feel like I'm losing my mind. What the fuck is going on? Do you do that shit, too?"

Riley shakes his head. "You're telling me that my sister's astral body is following you around?"

"_Yes!_"

Riley's brows furrow. "And you're having her nightmares?"

"Fucking _yes_, Riley," Edward says harshly. "Who the fuck hurt her? Why is she flickering?"

Riley's gaze seems lost. "You can see her," he murmurs. "You can see her astral body. Edward, we – I mean, Bree and I – _we_ can't even see Bella's astral body. She's invisible like that-"

"She's not invisible to me," Edward claims resolutely.

And then, a soft voice, a feminine whisper. "_Edward_."

Edward's head turns sharply to the left, his eyes widening when he see's Bella's body flickering, almost fading completely out of sight only to come back full force, modeling bruise after dark bruise.

"Bella-"

"_Bella_?" Riley repeats, turning his eyes to where Edward is looking.

Nobody is there.

"_Edward, something's happening_-" she says, her voice wavering, full of static, like a radio falling out of tune.

Edward immediately moves towards her, his hands reaching for the tops of her arms, as if he can hold her to him, protect her – as if he can do something.

His hands pass through air.

"_Edward, I-I'm returning to my body. God, it hurts! Edward-"_

"Bella!" Edward yells at her fading image, his heart thundering in his chest.

"_Edward-"_

Edward clutches cold, empty air.

Bella is gone.

Rage and agony thunder through his head, his fists clenching tightly as he turns on Riley.

"_Where the fuck is Bella's body?_"

* * *

**A/N: KEEP READING!**

**~cupcakeriot**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

Getting Bella's location was like pulling teeth.

Edward almost beat up his best friend just to find the girl.

It would have been worth it.

He doesn't even change out of his wrestling clothes when he thunders out of the gym, ignoring Riley's calls and Coach's protests; he detours through the locker room, grabbing his gym bag and car keys.

His first stop is Bella's house.

As Riley's best friend, he knew the Chief's schedule like clockwork and knew where the spare key was.

Breaking in is easy.

What's not easy is the dread filling his stomach as he looks through the house with new eyes. _Had there always been that many pictures of Riley and Bree? Where are Bella's pictures_?

He imagines he's a lot like Bella's astral body as he passes through all the rooms upstairs, carefully examining them; Bree and Bella's room doesn't hold any essence of Bella in it, it's too pink, too frilly, too fussy. Not Bella's style. It becomes glaringly obvious that Bella doesn't sleep in any of the rooms upstairs. The living room is next and, again, a lack of _Bella_ pictures.

Edward's eyes pause on an older frame, taking in a slightly familiar face, absorbing the toffee eyes and mocha colored hair, the milky skin. It was an older, more pregnant version of Bella with a small version of Riley on her lap.

_Their_ _mother_.

The resemblance was uncanny.

Edward moves on, turmoil replacing dread in his stomach.

He moves into the kitchen, sharp eyes detecting an off-colored splash on the tiles, a dot of blood on the bright cabinets. Edward sinks to his knees, fingers grazing the surface, bile rising in his throat.

_Riley knows who did it – the Chief. Charlie. Bella's father._

Edward rises quickly, throwing up in the sink until he dry heaves.

He doesn't even bother to clean it up.

He can't even _think_ past the sickening feeling in his gut, the shiver in his spine – _how long did Bella suffer while saving other people? How could we all be so fucking blind_?

It was more than obvious now.

Edward remembers stilted interactions between Bella and Charlie, at the time thinking it was just regular family fighting.

It was so much worse than that.

And so much more confusing.

_Why only Bella?_

Edward shakes his head. Not important right now. He was on a mission – get in and get out. Figure out some evidence, if any. He had to be here, right now, for his fledgling plan to work.

Edward moves to the basement door, the only room left in the house. He'd been told in the past that it was used for storage.

He opens the door, flicks on the light, ventures down stairs.

He wants to throw up again.

Sharp grey eyes assess the piles of clothes, the lone tiny mattress, the stack of books, the little coffee machine in the corner. Edward takes out his cell phone, snapping pictures quickly, saving them, and turns on his heel before he gets sick again.

In the car, driving too fast on back roads, Edward hits speed-dial on his phone, calling a number that he only contacted on the holidays.

"Edward?"

The teenager takes a deep breath. "Dad. I need your help."

Several minutes later, Edward hangs up.

His dad is on his way to the hospital Riley told him about, his best lawyers in tow. A sense of ease fills Edward's chest very fleetingly.

_It's your turn to be saved, Bella_, he promises silently, clenching the wheel, speeding the car faster.

Edward uses the connections afforded to him by his father to see the county hospital's only Jane Doe. He can prove her identity, having snooped in the office of the Chief's house to find her birth certificate and a copy of her state I.D.

Jane Doe is no more.

Edward demands that she be moved to a private suite, one that was guarded by hospital security – he throws his father's name around to make it happen.

Only when she is secure does Edward take his first look at her.

His knees are weak.

She looks so much worse in person, in real life, than she did in the flickers he could see. The bandage around her head explains so much.

Edward sits beside her, her tiny hand clasped between his much larger ones; he takes comfort in the sound of her heart monitor as he looks over her chart.

Being the son of a famous doctor had more than one perk.

Eight hours after his call to his father, he receives one in return, alerting him that Charlie has been taken into custody, especially given the evidence that had been uncovered from the home, Seattle's best CSI team sweeping over Charlie's house while he was gone.

Hopefully, the ex-Chief wouldn't be seeing the light of day – and if he did, Edward would take car of the bastard himself.

Eventually, Edward's dad comes to the hospital himself to assess Bella. "She'll be okay, son," he whispers, placing a soothingly cool hand on Edward's shoulder.

Edward decides that love is a funny thing after his father leaves, his eyes intent on Bella's healing face.

It changed him in a day, though it had probably always been there for this girl. He didn't care if she ever returned his affections.

Her safety was enough.

Some days later, the weekend, Edward supposes, Bree and Riley shuffle into Bella's hospital room, bearing sweet smelling lilies and a photo album.

Bree sits beside Edward, placing the album in his lap, tears in her eyes. "This is Bella," she tells him softly, flipping it open.

It is Bella.

Every single shot was captured without Bella's knowledge, pictures of her profile, pictures of her frowning. Offering a rare smile. Cooking. Terribly captured pictures of a smaller Bella, dirt smudged but happy, taken by inexperienced hands.

She was a beautiful child.

Edward's heart clenches painfully. "She doesn't know about this?"

Bree shakes her head. "No," she whispers, wiping her eyes. "Edward, we did try. We did what we could."

Edward looks up at Riley. "I know."

Riley offers a cracked smile as he stands protectively by Bella's side. "Thanks for finishing it."

Edward's eyes grace over Bella's fading bruises. "It was my pleasure. But _why_ her?"

Riley shrugs. "I've wondered that my entire life."

"Our mother died during childbirth," Bree says softly, standing to stroke hair off Bella's face. "I was born first but the labor was hard and Mom was already sick. But the umbilical cord was wrapped around Bella's neck and it was either Mom's life…or Bella's. Mom chose Bella. I guess Charlie blamed Bella for it."

"It wasn't Bella's fault," Riley says with certainty. "I remember Mom was sick a lot before she got pregnant with the twins. She still chose to carry to term. It didn't help matters that Bella looks exactly like Renee."

"The hair and the eyes," Edward whispers.

Bree offers a small smile. "Bella's like a carbon copy."

The explanation was the only one available, as Charlie was talking any time soon.

After Bree and Riley left, having only been allowed one hour from foster care, Edward's anger simmered down, his fingers carefully tracing Bella's features.

Bella woke up the next day, bleary, confused, wincing with every breath.

"Bella?"

"_Edward_," she breathes, toffee eyes widening in recognition. "Where am I? What happened-Oh. _Oh_." Bella's fingers grasp the sheets beneath her. "It wasn't a dream, was it?"

"No," Edward murmurs. "It was very real."

Bella looks away. "Why are you here?"

"A lot of things have changed since you've been asleep, babe," he mutters, leaning towards her.

Her eyes widen at the endearment, a weak flush forcing itself onto her cheeks.

"Your father's in jail, Riley and Bree have been stuck at the Weber's and you've been emancipated."

"Emancipated?"

"My dad's lawyers," Edward offers as an explanation.

"So, I'm…"

"Free," he says, his voice low. "And staying with me until graduation."

"With _you_?" Bella demands, her voice high, wincing after she jostles one of her broken ribs.

"Careful, sweetheart," Edward soothes. "You're pretty banged up, won't be getting out of here for a while. And yeah, with _me_. No reason to transfer with only a year to go until graduation."

Bella eyes him carefully. "You're different," she says suddenly, quietly. "Not so…brash."

"What can I say?" Edward asks rhetorically, sitting back with a wry grin on his face. "Some invisible girl barged into my life and changed me."

Bella's smile is sparkling and the first of many.

* * *

**A/N: KEEP READING! GO GO GO!**

**~cupcakeriot**


	13. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: Invisible people can****'****t own Twilight.**

* * *

**Epilogue**

_Three Years Later_

Edward closes the door carefully behind him, not wanting to wake Bella up from her well-deserved sleep. Since two years ago, Bella's nightmares had completely disappeared in favor for more benign clairvoyant dreams and she'd taken the extra time to work hard on school, graduating six months early and taking online courses until Edward caught up to her.

Now, while Edward was training all day at his gym and taking MMA fights on the weekends, Bella was flourishing with her education, taking extra classes.

Her determination might have had something to do with their upcoming wedding.

Edward sneaks through their Seattle apartment as quietly as possible, slinking into the bedroom and into the bathroom, only taking a moment to admire the Bella-shaped lump beneath the white duvet of their large bed. He showers quickly, washing grime and someone else's blood off his body, turning off the water and reaching for a towel that…wasn't there.

Edward's soaking head peeks out of the shower, taking in Bella's smirking face, messy mocha hair and the thin blue-grey silk camisole and matching lace underwear she wore. _God, her fucking legs_.

"Uh, babe?" he says uncertainly, eying his towel in her unflinching grasp.

"Yeah?"

Edward quirks a brow at her tone, giving in and stepping out of the shower, completely comfortable to be nude in front of her – it wasn't anything she hadn't seen or enjoyed, after all.

Bella really appreciated his hours at the gym.

She moves closer to him, toffee eyes roving over his dripping body. "You'll get the bed wet if you don't dry off," Bella said with a click of her tongue, standing on the tips of her toes to vigorously dry Edward's hair.

He scowls, when she pulls back, the towel moving much slower over his chest and shoulders. "What did my hair ever do to you?"

Bella snorts, drops the towel, steps back with an inviting grin.

He succumbs to the chase she offers.

Moments later, Edward is hovered over her, knees straddling her hips, hands on either side of her head. He pulls back, admiring her heaving chest beneath her camisole, her flushed skin, her wide eyes, a shade darker than before. His hand moves, tenderly cupping the side of her face. "You're beautiful, you know," he murmurs, pressing his mouth on her neck, gently nipping at her skin. Breathing her in.

Bella opens her mouth, a loss for words; she doesn't speak, too distracted by the way Edward's mouth seems to be worshiping the skin of her shoulder, pulling against the thin strap.

The time for play was over, apparently.

Edward's hands move with a sure ease, tracing over her body, stripping her of lace and silk until her skin is pebbling beneath his strong hands – Bella gasps when his fingers pass through her folds, spreading slickness.

She grasps his shoulders as he sinks two fingers as far as they will go, smoothly curling them towards her belly and finding _that spot_, the one that made her crazy and explosive. He doesn't relent his pattern – tap, rub, tap, tap, circle, tap, rub.

"_Please_," she pleads.

His thumb presses against her clit and she's lost.

Then her knees are curled over his shoulders as he guides himself in, settling his narrow hips against her bottom.

Bella can almost _feel_ him pulsing.

Her body is too sensitive, quivering beneath his strong hold. Edward moves slowly, smoothly, hitting the perfect spot with precision on each thrust, grinding his pelvic bone into her clit with every pass.

"You…must have got in," Bella gasps, her head tilting back when Edward's mouth ascends on her breasts.

He was always particularly amorous after he got good news.

"Going to Nationals, baby," he declares, speeding his thrusts, spreading her legs wider, relishing in the way she gripped the sheets of the bed, how her back arched, how her hips rocked up to meet his.

He wanted to fuck her into the mattress almost as much as he wanted to savor the feel of her wetness gripping him.

Edward figured he could have both.

His steady pace falters then speeds until the slapping of skin against skin echoes through the room. Bella releases a breathless moan, her back arching further, a flush spreading up her chest, her body sucking him in, gripping, tightening against his flesh. "Fuck! Yes, come for me, Bella…fucking come-"

"_Edward!"_

He groans in response to her voice, dipping his head to breathe against her mouth, pressing a sharp bite into her shoulder, soothing it with his tongue.

He curses as he comes, pressing his body as deep as possible into hers.

Slowly, Bella and Edward detangle, limbs sliding against each other as they settle in the bed, Bella using his chest as a pillow.

"Sorry I woke you up," Edward says after a moment.

Bella yawns. "I don't mind," she promises. "Nationals?"

"Yeah," Edward grins. "Think you'll be able to make it?"

Glittering toffee eyes gaze up at him. "Considering I'll be your wife by then, you can guarantee it."

Edward presses a lingering kiss against her kiss-swollen mouth. "Love you."

Bella feels the cool metal of her engagement ring pressing into the skin of her hand as she kisses Edward – she was in constant awe of this brash, beautiful, moody, sweet man, the man who saved her from her own personal hell. "I love you, too," she whispers, taking a moment to pause. "…Daddy."

For a second, he doesn't react.

And then, Edward's hands are on Bella's hips, rolling her onto her back so he can press his face against her stomach. "Really?"

Bella digs her fingers into his hair. "Doctor Dad confirmed it," she tells him, referring to his father who was also over the moon about the news of his first grandchildren; his relationship with his son had healed a lot in three years.

Edward kisses her stomach eagerly. "I fucking love you," he tells her stomach, looking up at Bella happily. "I love you," he murmurs, kissing her stomach, then kissing down, lower and lower until Bella can barely manage cohesive thoughts to reply back.

* * *

**A/N: Yep. It's really the end. I never intended for this story to be very long in the first place and I'm satisfied with how it ended. Figured Bella didn't need any more violence and Edward beating up Charlie wouldn't have been good for her.**

**And how sexy would MMA Edward be? *fans self***

**Superawesome virtual hugs to everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited! This has been an amazing ride with you guys!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~cupcakeriot**


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